Monnie and Karinya
Content Warning: These stories are about violence, abuse, neglect and exploitation and may include references to suicide or self-harming behaviours. They may contain graphic descriptions and strong language and may be distressing. Some narratives may be about First Nations people who have passed away. If you need support, please see Contact & support.
Monnie was diagnosed with autism as a young teenager. It didn’t stop her from functioning well. She attended school, moved out of home and was able to get and keep a job.
But while working for a big company, someone sexually assaulted Monnie. No-one believed her. Her mental health broke down, leading her to be hospitalised for some months.
Afterwards she moved into her parents’ house. They belonged to a strict religious community and were very controlling of Monnie. They had already reclaimed control over Monnie’s affairs after she was initially placed under the guardianship of the public trustee.
Monnie later asked for a review, and this led to the guardianship being split between the public trustee and Monnie’s parents, who remained in charge of Monnie’s NDIS plan and medical decisions.
Monnie is in her early 30s now, and Karinya is her support worker. Karinya thinks Monnie’s parents employed her because she grew up in the same religious community.
‘Because I had no training. This is the first time I’d done any kind of support work. And I think they were relying on that.’
Karinya said that Monnie’s parents made it clear they were in charge of Monnie.
‘When I came onboard her parents very strongly portrayed to me that I was accountable to them for everything, and I was in no way to accommodate [Monnie]’s wishes if they contravened what they had told me. In any area. They were telling [Monnie] things like that she wasn’t an adult, so she didn’t have the rights of an adult.’
After some time working with Monnie, Karinya attended an NDIS training course. It opened her eyes to some issues in her role as Monnie’s support worker.
‘Doing that course made me realise that NDIS considered that I was, you know, more responsible to [Monnie] and [Monnie]’s wishes than I was to her parents. And so I started to voice that to the parents and, yeah, so they were getting increasingly unhappy with me.’
Monnie knew her parents wanted to fire Karinya.
‘It’s their way of controlling,’ Karinya said.
But when Karinya spoke up, Monnie decided to speak up too.
‘I think she’d just been biding her time for years, until she felt that she had strong support around … [someone] that would stand up to her parents,’ said Karinya.
When Monnie initiated another review of the guardianship order, her parents told her she had to move out.
Monnie now has control over her own medical decisions, and a sibling manages other aspects of her NDIS plan. She has broken off contact with her parents.
‘She’s been emotionally and psychologically abused since she was a kid, since she was little, yeah. And this is the freest she’s ever been. Which is – you know, she’s struggling with as well because now she’s got freedom, she doesn’t quite know what to do with it,’ Karinya said.
Monnie’s parents had only let her see a counsellor chosen by them, and they wouldn’t let her see a behavioural psychologist at all. She has started seeing a trauma counsellor and a behavioural psychologist.
‘Now she can access the help that she needs,’ Karinya said.
Karinya said attending the NDIS course was ‘pivotal’ in what followed, and to Monnie escaping her parents’ control. She hopes the Royal Commission will recommend mandatory training for support workers and carers. She also wants the matter of accountability to be clear.
‘Yeah, whatever recommendations that the DRC comes up with, particularly for people who are under a guardianship, is to make sure, you know, that the carers understand who they’re actually accountable to.’
Disclaimer: This is the story of a person who shared their personal experience with the Royal Commission into Violence, Abuse, Neglect and Exploitation of People with Disability through a submission or private session. The names in this story are pseudonyms. The person who shared this experience was not a witness and their account is not evidence. They did not take an oath or affirmation before providing the story. Nothing in this story constitutes a finding of the Royal Commission. Any views expressed are those of the person who shared their experience, not of the Royal Commission.