02/02/2026
Some days, this work is heavy. And this is one of those times when I’ve been of two minds about whether to add my voice to the public dialogue.
Trigger warning:
This post refers to the deaths of children, violence, disability, and su***de.
I’ve been sitting with how — and whether — to speak about the recent murder–su***de in Perth. Part of me is cautious — of oversimplifying something complex, of contributing to harm, of speaking into a space that is already raw and polarised.
And another part of me knows that staying silent can also cause harm — particularly when Autistic children and disabled lives are being spoken about in ways that risk erasing their/our humanity.
So I’m choosing care over certainty, and clarity over silence.
In the wake of recent events, much of the commentary has fallen into two camps.
One names the immense pressure parents of Autistic children and children with high support needs can experience — the exhaustion, isolation, and the impact of systems that withdraw or fragment support.
The other names something that must be said clearly and without softening: the killing of a child, any child, is murder. It is not consensual. It is not mercy. And no one has the right to decide that another person’s life is not worth living.
These positions are often being framed as if they are in opposition.
They are not.
We can — and must — hold a firm, unambiguous stance:
the murder of a child is never acceptable, never understandable, and never excusable.
Disability does not diminish a person’s right to life, safety, or dignity.
At the same time, we do ourselves — and vulnerable families — a disservice if we refuse to look honestly at the systems that leave parents unsupported, overwhelmed, and carrying more than any one family should have to carry alone. Naming systemic failure is not the same as excusing violence.
We do not need to soften our language about murder in order to advocate for better support for families of Autistic children.
And we do not need to minimise systemic neglect in order to assert, unequivocally, that Autistic lives matter.
Both truths can exist together.
This moment calls for:
- fierce protection of Autistic and disabled lives
- refusal to romanticise or reframe violence
- grief for the children who were killed
- and renewed commitment to building systems that do not abandon families under pressure.
Some days, this work is heavy because the stakes are high.
And because clarity matters.
I offer this not to close conversation, but to slow it down.