Zev and Waverly

Zev is a young autistic man with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and anxiety. His mother, Waverly, told the Royal Commission about his ‘struggles’ and ‘negative experiences’ with medical specialists and his school.

During his first year at primary school, teachers reported that Zev experienced difficulty following written instructions. Waverly arranged for her son to see a paediatrician, speech therapists, occupational therapists, a cardiologist and several psychologists. ‘But none of them diagnosed him ... no-one picked it up,’ said Waverly.

One psychologist described Zev as a ‘most unusual boy’, which Waverly said was ‘very hurtful’. Another told her son, ‘If you want to be treated normally, you just need to act normally.’

Three years later, having consulted nearly 10 different specialists, Zev was diagnosed with ADHD and anxiety.

Zev’s parents came to a decision. ‘I thought, naively, that it would be best to transfer him to a private school,’ said Waverly. She ‘stupidly’ thought that they would ‘have cutting-edge strategies’ and invest in students with disability. ‘But that wasn’t the case at all.’

During the admissions process, Waverly sent a copy of Zev’s diagnosis and other reports to the school. ‘I just assumed that I would be called to a meeting to discuss his needs.’ She waited for weeks, but ‘nothing happened.’

She approached Zev’s teacher to enquire about classroom supports or potential learning adjustments. The teacher was unaware Zev had a learning disability.

‘I don't know how [schools are] supposed to comply with their obligations under the law as to disability when they don’t tell the teachers that they’ve got kids with disability in the classroom.’

Zev’s teacher told Waverly ‘the fact that he didn’t come to her expressing difficulties ... indicated to her that he’s failing to take responsibility’. He was ‘very disorganised’, the teacher said. ‘And to be organised, he needs to want to be organised.’

‘I kept insisting that they need to provide adjustments, and what were they going to do? And I could tell I was getting into the too-hard basket at that point.’

One senior staff member told Waverly the school had a diversity program, but at this school ‘diversity does not mean disability’.

Meanwhile, Zev was becoming ‘more and more unhappy and anxious’.

One day, he wrapped his school tie around his neck, ran out of the house, down the street, and attempted to climb over the wall to the train station, ‘as though he was going to do something'.

Zev’s parents called an ambulance, which took him to a nearby hospital. A psychiatrist assessed Zev’s mental health and gave Waverly a stern warning that, as his mother, she needed to ‘get control of him’.

After this incident, the school agreed to a learning plan. Things improved for a while and Zev seemed to be adjusting.

Then Zev moved into high school.

‘That’s when things fell apart,’ said Waverly. ‘He started complaining of bullying. And he was very lonely.’ Zev told his mother, ‘It hurts to go to school.’

When they approached the school, it was suggested to them that Zev leave. ‘[It’s] a good school, but it’s not for everybody. He should be at a special school,’ they said.

Waverly felt let down. ‘They have a certain type of student, I think, that they feel that they’re servicing, or providing a service for, and that doesn’t include people like [Zev].’

She lodged an anti-discrimination application with a human rights commission.

One of the school heads got ‘very angry about it’. ‘Do you ever think it’s you that causes [Zev’s] anxiety, coming up here all the time?’ he yelled at Waverly.

Waverly felt ambushed. ‘It was just very intimidating ... I just couldn’t cope with continuing the complaint.’

Deciding it was more important to support her son through high school, Waverly withdrew the complaint.

Two years later, Zev completed year 12. ‘It was with great difficulty, but he did finish.’