At around 8:56 am on the 25th of April, I groggily scrolled on my newsfeed, woken up by an abrupt shock from a headline… Given current world events, I’m sure many would believe that we are lucky to live in a country as open and forgiving as Australia. And I agree that the situations around various countries can be volatile, but none of this makes Australia perfect or even inherently “lucky”.
According to multiple sources, such as ABC and 9 News, 160,000 children are set to be removed from the NDIS (National Disability Insurance Scheme) in a few years’ time, as the reports suggest. And a massive group of children include those with “high functioning” to moderate autism and ADHD.
So, this autism awareness month (which many schools have not even acknowledged despite it “increasing” in prevalence), rather than feeding you stereotypical short films and PowerPoints, I will be showing you the backlogs of ableism built into our “lucky country” in real time.
First off, I want to say that I 100% agree with the strategic exit pathways of the 160,000 kids if they have lower to moderate support. Many families with high support needs and various disabilities are unable to receive adequate funding despite multiple appeals, simply because the program cannot afford to support everyone. And the rapid incline of low to moderate autism and ADHD diagnoses over the next couple of years will not solve this issue.
So why would I write an article requiring an attention span greater than 20 seconds? Because the only certain framework the government has is Thriving Kids, which supports children 0-8 years old, and even that isn’t completely thought out. Additionally, the amount of MSN articles I have seen about “virtual autism” and “overdiagnosis in young kids” has been concerning since I began high school. iPad kids should be called iPad kids and nothing more, otherwise people who are actually autistic become more of a punchline than they already are. Furthermore, since teenagers and young adults are the ones often diagnosed late, the “overdiagnosis” or “coercion to get diagnosed” could actually be a correction.
Another thing I’d like to say about Thriving Kids is that it seems like a half-decent initiative, with a lot of focus on developmental milestones, community and parenting resources. This is crucial for families with low-moderate autistic kids and those with ADHD. Considering that half the 160,000 kids are under the age of 9 with said neurotypes, this looks good on paper. But in real life, it reads more like a “happy wife, happy life” scenario than actual change. Parents seem more front and centre than children themselves. And while I understand that during those years children are not fit to make macro-scale life decisions themselves, they should obviously have support centred around them, not the other way around, because at the end of the day it’s their life. A child looking back might see themselves as a burden, which no child should ever have to feel, especially not because of a government system with the wrong target audience. All in all, it’s decent, but it definitely has room for improvement.
So, we’ve covered that Australia is far from perfect, and although well-intentioned, Thriving Kids could use a fair bit of work for those under 9 years old. But this points to my main issue – nothing has been done for the group that arguably needs the most help – teenagers.
Particularly those without a diagnosis or who have been diagnosed in high school.
Backed by a kaleidoscope of personal experiences and hard facts strewn across the internet, autistic students are more likely to experience bullying than their neurotypical peers. More often than not, autistic children will not be able to determine that they are being bullied. Many are too busy trying to navigate loud classrooms, bright lights, crowded seating, and more. This is because many neurodivergent people process information that neurotypicals would cancel out (e.g, background noise, light intensity, etc.), causing sensory overload. On top of that, social cues, which are almost impossible to process in real time, are just the cherry on top. As if autistic people don’t navigate enough in one day, quite a few neurotypical children shove insults at them like it’s some capital joke.
Bullying is already detrimental for a young child’s identity, but when they are expected to function as a neurotype, they aren’t on top of that; they compress everything in them without having the opportunity to navigate the way their brains work. Consequently, they fall into autistic burnout by the time they hit their teenage years. This is different from neurotypical burnout because of the intensity of neurodivergent nervous system responses. While a neurotypical teenager may struggle with doing schoolwork, a neurodivergent teen may not even manage to get out of bed simply because of burnout.
The world and almost every single system in society were built for and by neurotypical people, and ableism has always been prevalent across history. Sadly, just as many teenagers decipher that they may be autistic and seek a diagnosis (self-discovery almost never comes from numerous closeted and overly exaggerated television stereotypes), they face more obstacles.
Every Australian knows that we live in a multicultural country. And with different cultures come different frameworks families use to raise their children, much of which includes masking of autistic traits to comply with high standards. Australia is a country that assumes parents know everything about their child, but given the amount of racism and ableism spewed out of many generations, I doubt this is the case. How are parents supposed to alter their technique of raising children when it’s all they’ve known for generations? If CPS is going to pound on doors and conduct investigations that could tear lives apart, who would dare to speak up about whatever happens at home? If a child must put themselves at risk to get help, that’s not support – that’s ableism.
Even if children live in an environment safe enough to pursue a diagnosis, the bill would be enough to pay 1-4 months of rent. They can be as low” as $300 or skyrocket above $2000 in some cases. If recognition and support come at such a high cost, many may not even pursue it simply to save money. Given the geopolitical climate of our world and soaring prices for necessities like diesel and groceries, I doubt many kids would want to burden their parents with such a costly request. And if they are heard and understood, still, not every parent is able to afford it, especially those in lower socioeconomic regions and rural areas. That’s not support – that’s ableism.
The assessment itself was designed for white, 7-year-old males, and it has historically been so much harder for many others to get a diagnosis despite being assessed. One specific group affected by this is women and teenage girls of colour. Statistics say that it is four times more likely to find an autistic male than an autistic female, but this is because females don’t present autistic traits like their male counterparts. They are also, on average, much better at masking than males. Not only is it hard for many children to ask for and afford a diagnosis, but the assessment could be a test of patience. That’s not support – that’s ableism.
A child goes through all this trouble getting a diagnosis just to be slapped in the face with a “you’re not really autistic, you’re just doing it for attention” when they finally unmask, or hearing terms like “overstimulated” carelessly thrown around by the general public. Have you seen everyone walking around with needoh cubes and tangles lately? They claim it’s a fun TikTok trend. Now watch as the autistic kid who uses it to regulate their stims gets told to “stop being dramatic.” How strange? It’s almost like they were designed for that specific purpose.
If it’s hard to be recognised as autistic even after a difficult diagnosis odyssey, why are so many teenagers pursuing one? The answer is simply this – without a diagnosis, NESA will not take them seriously. From a department perspective, I don’t blame them. How else is a child supposed to prove that they have a disability and get help? For all its challenges, a diagnosis is the golden ticket of the HSC because it is only through this monotonous 200-page report that a child can prove to NESA that yes, they are capable; they just learn differently and deserve support. It’s not like an email from an experienced counsellor to the department could do the same thing- I mean, what?
With cost, labels and society as a whole collapsing on kids who manage to get diagnosed, it makes sense that families would turn to the NDIS for help. Obviously, because it’s a government initiative, it’s going to be helpful and cost-effective – oh wait. They’re getting removed with no other place to go.
That’s not support – that’s ableism.
Get cracking, Australia.
