My Husband and I are Blind Parents: Our Children are not our Carers

19 October, 2024

Recently, I encountered a situation that made me reflect on how professionals approach families where parents are disabled. During a conversation a professional had with my youngest daughter, it was suggested that she might be eligible for support as a young carer.

While my daughter assured me the person understood we did not need a carer, I was reminded that so often over our twenty-one years as parents, my husband and I have had to refute the assumption that because we are blind, our children must be taking on a caregiving role. What has often been striking to me is that professionals who make such assumptions have often never met us.

Like many parents, we expect our children to help out with household tasks. Some of these tasks, due to our blindness, are visual in nature—whether it’s reading a label or helping with a form. But this doesn’t mean that our children, who have grown up in an environment where independence is highly valued, are our carers. In fact, my daughters don’t see themselves as carers, and neither do we. They are simply young people contributing to family life, just like many teenagers do in any home.

This experience highlighted an important issue: the need for professionals who work with children of parents with disabilities to approach our families with curiosity, not assumptions. Labels like “young carer” should never be suggested without first understanding the family’s circumstances and discussing with the parents. While some children do take on substantial caregiving roles, many, like our daughters, are simply expected to help out in age-appropriate ways.

These assumptions can place undue pressure on children, burdening them with a role they neither hold nor want. It also perpetuates stereotypes about parents with disabilities—that we are dependent on our children in ways that may not be true.

My husband and I both hold executive leadership roles, travel independently, and lead full lives without relying on our children to fill the gaps. When we moved to Tasmania from Queensland, our children were 4 and 8, and we managed the entire process without sighted assistance. Our children have always been part of our lives, but never have they been asked to take on more responsibility than their peers.

But there’s another equally important layer to consider. What message are we sending to children who themselves have disabilities when we make these assumptions? When professionals assume that children of parents with disabilities are automatically carers, it sends the disempowering message that people with disabilities are inherently dependent.

For children who may be living with their own disabilities, this can reinforce a harmful belief that they will always be reliant on others, and it can diminish their sense of autonomy and potential.

As a professional who has made my share of assumptions, I know how crucial it is to challenge those assumptions and bring curiosity into these conversations. Whether it’s a psychologist, teacher, or support worker, the key to understanding a family’s needs is to ask questions and listen, rather than making broad assumptions based on disability. Disability does not automatically equate to dependence, and applying these labels without careful thought can have long-lasting impacts on how children see themselves and their role in the family.

Every family is different, and professionals need to approach these situations with an open mind. By engaging with curiosity rather than preconceptions, we can build a better understanding of how to support children and parents alike. In our case, our daughters will continue to make their own choices about their paths forward, free from any assumptions about their roles in our family.

Professionals who are mindful of this will find that they not only offer better support but also empower the families they work with. And for families like mine, that can make all the difference.

And as for that carer label? This morning, I thought I’d test it out by suggesting my daughter could make me a cup of tea every day from now on, instead of the other way around. She flat-out refused—you can’t blame me for trying!