Jessica Page: Evil act in Mosman Park must spark action to boost Australia’s care economy

Heartbreak, turned to anger, turned to helpless despair at the thought of two innocent lives lost. Leon, 16, and Otis, 14. They deserved so much better. The reaction to the horror that unfolded inside an average family home in Mosman Park has been largely divided into two camps. Those who blame the parents and those who blame the “system”. Both can be right. There’s no excuse for murder. Maiwenna ‘Mai’ Goascoue and Jarrod Clune were not evil. By all accounts they were loving parents at their wits’ end. But they did perform an evil, criminal, act and then apparently took the coward’s way out — unable to bear the consequences of what they had done to two boys they loved. They failed as parents, we all failed as neighbours and the systems — schools, NDIS and government — failed to stop it. Their deaths are our collective shame. Almost two weeks on it is impossible to put the sadness and anger so many are feeling into words. Even harder to put it into action. But we must. Police are preparing a report for the coroner. The coroner must hold an inquest to investigate every uncomfortable and traumatic angle of their lives and deaths. Opportunities to intervene that were missed. Well intentioned attempts to intervene that fell short. Other lives are depending on it. Police Commissioner Col Blanch said it’s not up to him to recommend an inquest. “If there’s unanswered questions or there are broader social issues that’s generally what (the Coroner will) base the decision to hold an inquest on,” he said. Attorney-General Tony Buti can intervene, but won’t yet. The Australian Human Rights Commission has. “A coronial inquest is urgently needed to ensure strong investigative powers to respond to this tragedy and to identify the underlying and systemic issues that led to the parents’ actions, and to provide a sense of justice for Otis and Leon,” Disability Discrimination Commissioner Rosemary Kayess said. “We must reject the idea that disability is a burden — every child has the right to live, safety and support, and families should have access to help well before crisis.” Access to help is easier said than done and it’s not always about money. Much of the focus about a supposedly broken National Disability Insurance Scheme system has been on the cost of it — now exceeding $50 billion a year. Despite the budget blowouts, a lot of the dough isn’t reaching those who need it. There are constant stories of fraud versus desperate families facing NDIS budget cuts. The Ministers responsible, Mark Butler and Jenny McAllister, couldn’t confirm reports that the Clunes were one of them. Because investigations are underway, legal concerns, confidentiality blah blah blah. In the meantime, the best they can do is offer condolences and promise the NDIA will assist police. People suggesting mum and dad should have fought harder are right. But it’s a blissfully ignorant take that doesn’t help anyone. Because there are families pleading for support, and unable to find it. These are not the kids with mild autism who are unfairly caught between a rock and a hard place. (The rock being the NDIS and the hard place being State health and education systems. Both want to avoid footing the bill.) These are the kids that everyone agrees need intensive support. But good help is hard to find because our society still doesn’t value the care economy. A severe shortage of speech therapists, occupational therapists and physiotherapists results in long wait lists and a high turnover rate when a family eventually finds someone who suits. Who can blame therapists for moving on from an individual family (to advance their careers, better suit their own family lives or to clients who might be less physically demanding) when they can? Carers or support workers are still mostly students or a transient workforce — casual, often unskilled or untrained, under-valued and under-paid. They care deeply, but are usually only a temporary stop-gap. State and Federal Governments have launched recruitment drives and cash incentives to lure and train tradies to build houses. But there are no bonuses I know of to help maintain a critical mass of care workers to turn houses into better homes for our most vulnerable Australians? I’m not sure a 12-month or 2-year sign-on bonus would solve it, but I do know how hard it is to begin the search for help all over again every few months. How traumatic it is to re-tell your story to every new worker, or every time a new report is needed to justify the funding. And the guilt a mother feels when forced to hand a child over to a stranger for respite just to get through another day — because there’s no room at the provider you trust. The metaphorical too-hard basket is too real, too often, for too many families and cannot be allowed to fade out of the headlines. Julia Gillard said the most disadvantaged Australians are those to whom we owe the greatest duty of care, when she launched the NDIS in 2013. She called it a plan that spells hope. Families I know have had a gutful of hope. They need help and it’s in short supply.