Scott Morrison suggests that I have not been blessed because I have disabled children. Here’s where he got it right.

In an opinion piece, Briana Blackett dives into the prime minister’s controversial comments regarding people with disability.

I can’t sleep tonight. It’s well past the witching hour and I’m wide awake. I shouldn’t be. I’d taken the day off work to spend time in the sunshine with my kids. We had tickets to the fun park. We went on rides. Ate ice-cream. Got sunburned. That kind of thing. After a busy day, we settled contentedly into our usual routine at home. I climbed into bed feeling happy and pooped.  

Then my phone lit up. (Yes, I know. I shouldn’t charge it in my bedroom.) A message had arrived from a friend. It linked to a tweet about the prime minister apparently saying he felt blessed that he did not have kids with disability.  

I took a deep breath. Once again, the lives of my children, who do have disability, have been devalued. Their existence, again, not being seen as worthy of celebration. A blessing. 

It’s a tired, ignorant narrative. And yet, I thought, perhaps Scott Morrison is right. There are many times I have felt ‘unblessed’ since my children were diagnosed. Here are a few of them:

• I did not feel blessed when the preschool revoked my son's enrolment when I told him he was being assessed for autism. Despite having vacancies, they had apparently already filled their “quota” of disabled children.
• I did not feel blessed when a school principal told me he did not think he would be happy to have his own son in the same class as mine.
• I did not feel blessed when a teacher told me she wasn’t getting paid to teach disabled children.
• I did not feel blessed when I was told that my children could only take part in school excursions if I went with them.  
• I did not feel blessed the myriad of times I’ve had to lobby for my children to have access to numeracy and literacy lessons at school. I did not feel blessed when a teacher once told me this was because my son had no “interest” in academics. (I did feel blessed when, the following year at a different school, he completed the premier’s reading challenge and won the school award for maths.) 
• I did not feel blessed when the high school my son had been assigned told me its disabled students don’t have access to a Careers Officer.
• I did not feel blessed on any of the countless times I had been called to collect my children because the schools and teachers did not have “the training and resources” to support them.
• I did not feel blessed when a Department of Education director told me he couldn’t think of any school that would have teachers with the qualifications and experience to teach my child. I further felt unblessed when he suggested I (quit my job and) home-school my child instead.
• I did not feel blessed when a Department of Education ‘wellbeing officer’ told me that, while it was obvious my child needed extra funding and support, that there was no way I was going to get it.
• I did not feel blessed when, despite being in a ‘support unit’ with ‘special education teachers’, the staff called the police when my son - who did not yet have a teacher or a class - had a meltdown. I did not feel blessed when eight officers turned up with sirens blaring - further frightening him. 
• I did not feel blessed when the NDIS indicated, by the plans we had been given, that my children did not need much support (despite the school system telling me they needed too much support).
• I did not feel blessed when I was told by an NDIS planner that my son did not need occupational therapy to learn how to use a knife because he knew how to use a fork and isn’t that enough?  
• I did not feel blessed when an NDIS planner told me my child did not need speech therapy, despite the fact he could not speak.
• I did not feel blessed when an NDIS planner told me my children “weren’t worth the investment.”
• I did not feel blessed when I was told that if I challenged the decision of a planner by requesting a review that I would risk losing what funding had already been offered to us.
• I do not feel blessed when I look at employment options for my children being mostly limited to factory work (aka: Australian Disability Enterprises).  
• I do not feel blessed when I look at housing options for my children and realise they may be safer never leaving home. I do not feel blessed every time I remember Ann Marie Smith.
• I do not feel blessed when I remember that my children, because of their disability, will be unlikely to seek justice should they need it because the system deems them as being unreliable witnesses. 
• I do not feel blessed any time I tune into the Disability Royal Commission into the Abuse, Neglect, Violence and Exploitation of people with disability - although I implore everyone to do so. 

So, perhaps Mr Morrison is right to feel blessed that he does not have to go through any of these things. And, now that he’s shown his awareness and gratitude, I am looking forward to hearing his plans to combat these hurtful experiences for children with disability, their adult cohort, and their families.

Meantime, I’ll keep plodding along with daily life and focus on the things that do make me feel blessed. My children. 

This is an opinion piece by Briana Blackett who is a journalist and advocate for her two children with disability. After more than 20 years in TV news, she now works for Hireup as part of its Communications team.

For more reaction to the prime minister's comments, see Melanie Dimmitt's article: I've been blessed with a Disabled Child. ScoMo, you should be so lucky.