Sorel
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.
‘I love working with people and being a support worker, but I wish that I was never employed by [the provider] without the training I now have.’
Sorel recently started working as a disability support worker.
She had no previous experience and her university qualifications were in an unrelated field.
‘On my first shift, the manager welcomed me, pointed and named each person working and being supported, and gave me a tour.’
The manager told Sorel she would need to give one of the participants their medication and help them shower.
‘I had no idea that I needed to support people with medication or showering before I arrived. I felt silly for not knowing and felt it was my responsibility to learn on the go. I felt it was my responsibility for having taken the job with no experience.’
Sorel’s supervisor was surprised Sorel had got the job without any prior training or experience.
On the next shift, Sorel worked with an on-call worker.
Neither of them had met one of the respite participants who was non-verbal, and there had been no handover.
Sorel had to call an off-duty staff member for information.
Most of the people Sorel has supported did not have adequate support strategies or behaviour support strategies in place.
One participant hit and pinched workers and other participants, sometimes drawing blood. The only strategy was to try and avoid her and move away. Sorel often had to put herself between the woman and the people she targeted.
At one workplace, Sorel had to support two people with very different needs. Both needed one-on-one support but ‘supposedly neither of them had enough funding’.
‘This limited the activities that could be done during the afternoons and weekend days … For example, I could not go out walking or to the shops with them both as one of them walked very slowly and the other person walked very quickly and would sometimes wonder far away from me.’
Sorel said many of the staff didn’t value choice and control.
Participants had no say in the day programs they attended or the staff who supported them. Some staff didn’t allow participants to choose their clothes each day, telling them some items weren’t suitable or made them ‘look promiscuous’.
‘I believe that all support workers should have training to understand how their worldview should not come into a participant’s choices.’
Staff often raised their voices and bullied a participant to do something, such as shower or take medication.
Sometimes staff would gang up on a participant until they acquiesced.
‘I also at times bought into this pressure of thinking that I had to convince [a participant] to have a shower, otherwise someone would think I wasn’t doing my job properly.’
One participant frequently refused her medication. The manager told Sorel to persist – the participant would eventually take it.
Sorel wondered if the participant didn’t like the taste of the liquid. She asked the manager if they could try tablets.
The manager asked the doctor who prescribed tablets which the participant was happy to take.
‘That’s when I understood that it was part of my role to ensure that things like this are followed up and to not assume someone else had done it,’ Sorel said.
Training and education and experience is about having the confidence to identify your own limitations, and be able to ask for help and advocate for others.’
Sorel believes there needs to be higher standards and prerequisites to become a support worker.
‘I also feel that there should be a complaints body that enables support workers to complain more easily about the quality of an NDIS service provider or to raise concerns about the practice of other staff, so that things can be improved for everyone.’
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.