The Empty Promise of the Disability Standards of Education
As a mother of a child with a disability, I have always believed in the importance of laws like the Disability Standards of Education. These standards are meant to protect the rights of children with disabilities, ensuring they receive the support and accommodations they need to thrive in school. But after navigating the system myself, I have come to realise that having these standards as law is almost meaningless when there is no effective way to hold schools accountable.
When Buddy’O’s school suddenly cancelled his enrolment, we were devastated. The law, we thought, would be on our side. The Disability Standards of Education are supposed to prevent this kind of discrimination. But when we tried to hold the school accountable, we quickly discovered the harsh reality: the only recourse was to file a complaint with the Human Rights Commission.
Here is the problem—the Human Rights Commission doesn’t investigate complaints. They just try to conciliate, to mediate between the two parties. But what happens when a school refuses to participate in conciliation, as Buddy’O’s school did? The answer is simple: nothing. The school faces no consequences for ignoring the process, and we are left with no resolution.
Adding to the frustration is the fact that schools are not truly accountable to the law. The Disability Standards of Education, while positioned as legal mandates, often function more as guidelines or best practices. Schools seem to take different interpretations of the law, applying it inconsistently at best. For instance, at Buddy'O's last school, they could quickly provide me with their definition of a "reasonable adjustment," but were clueless about the four specific exemptions for implementing such adjustments. Notably, increasing teacher workload is not one of these exemptions, yet it was frequently used as an excuse. Even more frustrating was their inability to define "consultation," because, in their eyes, it was their way or the highway. Despite nearly two years of trying, they never actively consulted on the adjustments recommended by Buddy'O's allied health team.
The only other option we were given was to take the matter to the Federal Court of Australia. But here is where it gets even more disheartening. We were quoted a starting cost of $100,000 just to take our case to court. That is not a typo—$100,000. What family in Australia can afford to risk that kind of money on a legal battle, with no guarantee of winning? And to make matters worse, it is not a “loser pays” system—both parties are responsible for their own legal fees. Even if we were to win at federal court, we would then have to go through yet another legal process to sue for our legal expenses. The financial burden is overwhelming, leaving families like ours with little hope of finding justice.
Adding insult to injury, both the federal and Queensland state education ministers told me that they are not responsible for non-government schools in Australia. There is no ombudsman for education who can step in and investigate. So, the schools know they can get away with breaking the law because there is no one who will hold them accountable.
This is not just a failure of a single school; it’s a systemic failure that leaves families like mine without any real protection or recourse. The Disability Standards of Education are supposed to be a safeguard, but they are useless when schools can ignore them without consequence.
What we need is a system that actually enforces these laws, one that holds schools accountable when they fail to support children with disabilities. An Educational Ombudsman could play a crucial role in this, providing an independent authority to investigate and address complaints, ensuring that schools are held to the standards required by law. Until we have such oversight, the Disability Standards of Education are nothing more than words on paper—empty promises that leave families like mine struggling to fight for our children’s rights alone.