7 minute read
More collaboration between legal profession and disability community key to breaking down barriers
CATIA MALAQUIAS
When my son Julius was born 12 years ago, my husband and I welcomed him into the world in the same way we had welcomed his older sister, as a precious child with a clear future of possibilities.
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Our approach didn’t change when we were told the next day, “We believe that your baby has Down syndrome”, but suddenly looking through a very different prism, clouded with doubt, fear and confusion, his future possibilities were obscured.
I didn’t actually know anyone with Down syndrome, and like most people of my generation, I didn’t grow up attending school and getting to know children with disabilities; instead, I had good oldfashioned myths and stereotypes, prejudice and low expectations to refer to. But prejudices are learned, and they can be unlearned, and I’ve been trying to unlearn mine ever since then.
Today, Julius is a happy, thriving child. He is no longer just a little brother, but a big brother as well. And next month he will graduate from year 6 at our local Primary School, leaving his younger sister behind and joining his big sister at our local high school.
Parenting Julius is not particularly different to parenting his sisters; there are joys and challenges for each of them and each is their own person, needing some of the same things and also some different things.
The real difference in parenting Julius is in the way that my husband and I have had to advocate for him, to protect his rights and to ensure that he has the same opportunities for participation as his sisters and most children their age; starting with his fundamental human right to inclusive education - learning in a regular class at his neighbourhood school with non-disabled peers and disabled peers. A right that is subconsciously and consciously resisted by many who assume or think his place should be a “special” place - for “special” people – starting with segregated “special” education.
We have certainly faced those challenges along the way, but with my husband and I being lawyers, it’s fair to say that Julius has a level of parental-school engagement, rights-based advocacy and socio-economic privilege that many other children with disability do not.
The fact is, many Australians with disability, who represent approximately 1 in 6, or 4 million of us, continue to experience significant discrimination, exclusion and victimisation in a variety of ways. In 2019 the Australian Human Rights Commission reported that 43.7% of complaints were about disability discrimination. There are other statistics in relation to unemployment and poverty, sexual abuse and incarceration, in particular for First Nations people with disability, that are even more shocking.
A Royal Commission established by the Federal Government is currently examining violence against, and the neglect, abuse and exploitation of, people with disability.
As a lawyer, I placed a high level of trust in the legal system to deliver justice to people with disability, like my son, through equality of rights and protections against discrimination. But as a parent and an advocate, I came to understand the different ways in which disability can be used to circumvent people’s rights and to realise that, too often, laws either fail to protect people with disability from discrimination or, in many cases, they actually legitimise the denial of equal rights.
A few years ago, I met George Newhouse, the CEO and Principal Solicitor of the National Justice Project, at a human rights event in Sydney. I was aware of the important work of the National Justice Project in using legal action to break down barriers to justice and welcomed the opportunity to talk to him about some of these problems and the challenges that Australians with disability continue to face in realising some of the most basic human rights: access to education and health, reproductive rights, accessibility including to housing and public spaces, restrictive practices, denial of legal capacity and incarceration.
So, this year, when George asked me to be involved in the National Justice Project’s “Law Hack 2021: Disability Justice” as the Lead Mentor for Advocacy, I jumped at the chance. I couldn’t wait to be involved and was excited about the possibilities.
As Scott Avery, an Indigenous disability advocate and senior lecturer at Western Sydney University, said of the event, “We’re going to change the world and we’re going to disrupt the system.”
“Law Hack 2021: Disability Justice” didn’t disappoint. The event was held across two days on 14 October and 22 October. It brought together bright minds, passionate hearts and brilliant professionals, around the idea of strategic litigation as a tool for legal reform or as a potential catalyst to publicly expose inequality or unfairness, create public debate, empower people with disability to have a voice in that debate and build pressure for change.
Close to 50 participants, making up 10 teams convened from the legal, community, academic and advocacy sectors, came together to hear speakers with disabilities, participate in workshops on strategic litigation and disability advocacy, share ideas and inspire one another to act by participating in a ‘pitch day’ event where they presented their solutions to one of fi ve “problem statements”, before a panel of esteemed judges with lived experience of disability. Natalie Wade, the founder of Equality Lawyers and Vice President of Australian Lawyers for Human Rights chaired the judging panel which also included former Federal Disability Discrimination Commissioner Graeme Innes AM, Rob Silberstein, Advisory Board Member, National Justice Project, Margherita Coppolino, President, National Ethnic Disability Alliance and Scott Avery.
While the Law Hack was taken online due to COVID-19 restrictions, this turned out to be an advantage in many ways because it allowed for the creation of teams with participants from across the country, working together despite being miles apart.
Collaboration between legal professionals, people with disability and advocacy organisations was at the core of the event, embodying the guiding principle of the international disability rights movement “nothing about us without us”, articulated by Matthew Hall, CEO Arts Access Australia and Law Hack Mentor, in his speech on pitch day.
The National Justice Project team worked with community partners; the Jumbunna Institute for Indigenous Education and Research, the Council for Intellectual Disabilities, First Peoples Disability Network Australia, National Ethnic Disability Alliance , People with Disability Australia, Women With Disability Australia and Arts Access Australia in developing the “challenge” statements and curating relevant information and materials for the “hack packs”.
I had the opportunity to observe the value of this collaboration fi rst-hand, in my role as Advocacy Mentor assisting the teams to consider how a parallel advocacy strategy can be utilised, together with litigation, to deliver disability justice outcomes.
For example, in exploring the idea for a new emergency services branch to support people with a disability and divert them from the criminal justice system, the winning team of Jessica Pereira, Carolyn Ledinh, Jim Simpson and Fraser Bignell looked to a model that has been implemented overseas based on a standard triple zero phone call to access emergency support. As well as discussing how litigation may be used in making the case for this idea, they explored ways to make it more accessible for people who may not be able to use a standard phone service, such as people who are non-speaking and may be able to access the service via an app instead.
Accessibility was also front-of-mind for the organising team at the National Justice Project, to ensure that accessibly needs were identifi ed and addressed, including by providing written materials, captioning, image descriptions and Auslan sign language interpreters for the event.
While each participant played different roles and brought diverse insights and expertise, we all shared a common purpose: to use our collective knowledge, wisdom and experience in a range of areas to tackle the injustices facing Australians living with disabilities, by identifying and exploring effective and ground-breaking legal solutions.
I hope some of the ideas canvassed during “Law Hack 2021: Disability Justice” will be explored further, and I look forward to seeing where they may lead.
But, most importantly, I hope the event has paved the way for more to come; much-needed increased collaboration between the legal profession and the disability community, to change laws and government policy, reform systems and challenge and reshape community attitudes that are needed for people with disability to have equal opportunities and improved outcomes.
It will take time, of course, to overcome the insidious legacy of centuries of exclusion, segregation and marginalisation of people with disability, which legacy continues to constrain attitudinal change and public policy - but the world we build for tomorrow will be born of the ‘disrupting’ actions we take today, if we are to ensure that the prism to future possibilities for people like my son Julius will not remain clouded.
Catia Malaquias is a lawyer and human rights advocate. She is the Founder and Director if non-profi t disability inclusion organisation Starting with Julius, and Co-Founder of several organisations including All Means All – The Australian Alliance for Inclusive Education; School Inclusion Parent Network Project; and Global Alliance for Disability in Media and Entertainment. She is also a Director of Attitude Foundation; and Down Syndrome Australia. B December 2021 THE BULLETIN 17