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Each week, Benjamin Law asks public figures to discuss the subjects we’re told to keep private by getting them to roll a die for Good Weekend’s regular Dicey Topics column. The numbers they land on are the topics they’re given. This week, he talks to Rosemary Kayess. The disability and human rights lawyer, advocate, researcher and academic, 63, was the recipient of the Australian Human Rights Medal in 2019. She’s now Australia’s Disability Discrimination Commissioner.
SEX
You acquired your disability in a car crash at 19, a pivotal age when it comes to sex, relationships and romance. Did you worry about those things in the immediate aftermath? No, but it was funny: when I was in hospital, all these doctors of various stripes were standing around my bed: junior doctors, spinal physicians, physiotherapists, occupational therapists and god knows who else. I’d been in hospital for a few weeks when a spinal physician explained to me that it was quite likely I wouldn’t get my menstrual cycle back.
How did you feel hearing that news? Well, I looked at her and said, “Oh, but I got my period last week.” They all sort of looked at each other and moved on to the next bed. A lot of the focus was on men and penile erectile function.
But when it came to pleasure and reproduction for women … Nothing!
How did you navigate the world of romance or dating later? There’s a frustration. You’re not seen as a sexual being in lots of ways by many people. When it comes to physical disability, there’s quite a difference in relationship status between men and women. Some data in the early ’90s indicated that roughly half of men with a physical disability were in relationships. For women, it was a single-digit percentage.
Whoa! What’s the story? [When it comes to physical disability], romance often occurs in a patient-carer situation. Lots [of men] end up [in relationships] with their [female] nurses.
What about you now? Well, I haven’t been looking. Don’t get me wrong: if something were to happen naturally – if he was interested in me and I was interested in him – I wouldn’t actively not go there.
Let’s go through the criteria. What turns you off in a person? Aggression.
What turns you on? Quirkiness. I love brains. Banter and humour are sexy. And a love of music.
What kind of music? Funk. Jazz. Yacht rock.
Any other interests? Food and wine.
So a date … at a winery concert? That could work!
MONEY
What did your parents do for money? My dad was in textiles; he selected them for import and sold them to wholesalers in Sydney. My mother ran her own fabric business.
Growing up, how did you want to earn a living? I wanted to be a doctor for a very long time, then, during my hippie-dippy stage, I wanted to do natural medicine. Then I bailed out of school and worked in the public service. When I broke my neck, I didn’t know what I was going to do.
You couldn’t see a path ahead. No, for those first couple of years after the accident, it was really hard to see a path. There were so many access barriers for people with disabilities. Eventually, I decided to go to university to study social science, using disability as a topic in policy studies.
Can you tell me about the financial dimensions of disability that might surprise non-disabled people? Oh, the cost of disability: it’s expensive to do the workarounds. Society isn’t accessible. For me to be able to use my vehicle to get anywhere, I have to put a $27,000 hoist in it.
It costs $27,000? Are there any rebates or subsidies? No. Or you have to have a special ramp put in the back of a van. Or you catch taxis everywhere, which are five times more expensive than public transport. Then you have to pay someone to mow your lawn.
It feels like every dimension of life has an additional tax. It feels like that. People talk about how the National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS) was paying for people to get a haircut. Well, no. What it is paying for – probably – is for somebody to carry a small, portable ramp so they can get into their hairdresser.
For you personally, what constitutes money well spent? Let’s circle back to food and wine. I love going out with friends. I think there’s a gene in my family that predisposes us to going out for lunch or dinner.
RELIGION
When was the last time you lost your faith in someone or something? I’ve lost faith in our political system. I’ve watched the increase in inequality and antagonism towards things such as human rights. Politics, both here and internationally, is in a pretty bad way at the moment.
When was the last time you had your faith restored in someone or something? When I started here at the [Australian Human Rights Commission] and saw all the work that my colleagues do. There’s a good group of commissioners here at the moment.
What sin are you most susceptible to? Swearing. I’ve got a potty mouth.
How do you atone for that sin? I don’t, really, because I don’t generally swear in anger.
You swear in an Australian way? Yes, more for comedic emphasis!
Where do you find community? I’ve got a strong circle of friends, and some of those friends I’ve had for a very long time. And I’m very close to my family.
Where do you feel a sense of awe? Music. Live gigs. Sydney Harbour. Good architecture.
What’s the meaning of life, Rosemary? 42.
Ah, we have a Douglas Adams fan. [Nods] Life, the Universe and Everything. But, really, isn’t the meaning of life to always look on its happy side? Not to take it all so seriously?
