Romeo and Sonia
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.
‘He used to love school. There’s pictures of him really happy and engaging and doing things that are different, but now he doesn’t have that, and his life is very enclosed. It’s really crap.’
Sonia’s son, Romeo, is in his early teens. He is autistic and has an intellectual disability and epilepsy. He doesn’t speak.
Sonia told the Royal Commission that when he was in primary school, a teacher physically assaulted Romeo.
‘In one instance, he was pushed into the toilet stall and kicked in the shins, which is horrific.’ Romeo developed a fear of bathrooms. ‘He didn’t bathe for like six months.’
Sonia said the school didn’t tell her what had happened.
‘We didn’t get any information, apart from the principal told me on another occasion that it occurred numerous times, the physical assault, and in front of several staff members.’
Sonia told the police, who said there was nothing they could do.
‘They said, “Well … it’s a school matter. We can’t interview [Romeo], he’s non-verbal. The school has to deal with it.”’
The teacher lost his job.
Another time, teaching staff left Romeo alone while he repeatedly banged his head on the floor. The school told Sonia they couldn’t intervene because that would be a ‘restrictive practice’.
A few years ago, Romeo developed severe epilepsy. The school couldn’t provide a full-time support worker to monitor his seizures. Sonia tried another school – they also couldn’t help.
‘That’s the only reason why he can’t access education … you lose complete faith in the education system.’
Romeo developed a fear of school that remains with him. ‘You drive him past the street with the school and he gets really anxious in the car.’
When Romeo first developed epilepsy, Sonia took him to hospital. The hospital appointed a psychiatrist to treat him.
‘She ignored his seizures and saw that he was a child with high anxiety levels, and her recommendation was … to trial him on stimulants.
‘He was beside himself … If [Romeo] had been referred to the neurology team, he would have had access to better treatment, but he instead unnecessarily suffered for eight months.’
Sonia found a private neurologist, who gave him an implant to control the seizures. The implant caused an infection, and the hospital admitted Romeo to treat sepsis.
‘[The neurologist] said to me, “Do you really want to do this? Do you really want him to go through this?” and I thought, “Yes”. … Then later on I thought maybe he was giving me the decision to end [Romeo’s] life, and I just thought that’s so wrong. If he had not had an intellectual disability, then they wouldn’t have given someone that choice.’
Sonia said earlier and better-resourced medical and educational interventions would have prevented many of the challenges Romeo now lives with.
‘In the long run, if [people with disability] had sufficient support in the beginning, it means that there’s so much less needed when they’re adults.’
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.