Jordon Steele-John (WA, Australian Greens) Share this | Hansard source

I move:

That the Senate take note of the explanation.

After months and months and months of the Senate demanding that the government make public, that they release, the commitments they made—the details of the agreements they signed in relation to our NDIS, the details of the deal they did behind closed doors, behind the backs of disabled people and our families, which resulted in the capping of the NDIS, and their commitment to cut billions from the vitally needed supports provided by the NDIS—I still do not believe that this government really gets it, really understands why this information is important. So, let me spell it out for you in the clearest possible terms.

You made a commitment, a deal behind closed doors, to cap the expenditure of the scheme. In doing that, you sent a very clear signal to disabled people that our support needs, our services, our therapies, would now come second, behind the government's desire to balance its budget spreadsheets. That has two drastic implications: (1) How many people will therefore be kicked off the scheme? And (2) How many services and supports will be removed from people who currently need them? As a Senate we have tried, again and again, to get answers to these questions. Yet we have been stonewalled at every step, at every moment, by a government that promised transparency, consultation and authentic co-design.

Many on the government's side in the Senate may be wondering why I and so many other disabled people want answers to these questions, why we have fought for this information. Let me paint this picture. Let me try once again to give you this information. Can you imagine what it is like to sit in a wheelchair that is so small and old that it rubs pressure sores into your legs the size of eggcups? Can you imagine what it is like to be forced to live in a group home with people you don't know, with people who scare you, where you are showered only once or twice a week by somebody who doesn't look at you, by somebody who touches you, by somebody who won't listen, won't respond, doesn't treat you like a human?

Can you imagine what it is like to watch your son being bullied, excluded at school, falling behind, while knowing that if only you could afford the therapies and supports he needs he might be able to join the playgroup, might be able to learn how to read and write, might be able to be included, might be able to find joy in his time at kindergarten or preschool instead of enduring it? Can you imagine what it is like to look down at the hospital bed of your daughter, framed once again by guards, with scars up her arms, wasted away, while knowing that surely if the system had only seen her as a whole person, had only provided her with supports, rather than passing the buck, she might not be there?

We can imagine. Those were our lives before the NDIS. They are still the lives of too many of us today. That scheme gave us chance and hope to escape discrimination and to live with freedom. And you've cut it behind our backs. You do deals behind our backs. Therefore, we will not stop, we will not cease to get that answer, to get that clarity—not now and not ever.