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ABC News
3 hours ago
- ABC News
Why weren't Cassius Turvey and Cleveland Dodd safe in Western Australia?
WARNING: This story contains references to suicide and self-harm and will be distressing for some readers. In Western Australia, two First Nations families are on parallel tracks, seeking justice for their teenage sons taken from them before their time. On the surface, there are few similarities between the deaths of Cassius Turvey and Cleveland Dodd, beyond them being Aboriginal, living in Perth, and their tragic deaths in their teens. But the pain their families are left with is the same. Against the natural order of things, two mothers have buried their sons. Two boys who should have been safe and protected — but weren't. In 2022, 15-year-old Cassius Turvey was walking home from school when he was "hunted" and viciously attacked by a gang of men. He died in hospital 10 days later from his injuries. He wasn't safe to walk home in daylight in the eastern suburbs of Perth. He wasn't safe in his community. Last week, Cassius Turvey's murderers were sentenced to life in prison. On the steps of the courthouse after the sentencing, his mother, Mechelle Turvey, proclaimed it was "justice". "There are no words that can fully capture the devastation of losing someone you love to violence," she said. "Cassius was not just part of my life, he was my future. "I will never see him grow older, never hear his voice again, never feel the comfort of his embrace … no parent should have to visit the grave of an innocent 15-year-old child who did nothing wrong." In 2023, 16-year-old Cleveland Dodd was a child being held in Casuarina Prison, an adult detention centre, albeit in the "juvenile wing". He attempted to end his own life using a hanging point in his cell and died in hospital a week later. The first child in Western Australia to die in custody. He wasn't safe under the watch of the state. He wasn't safe from known risks to his life. This week, the inquest into Cleveland Dodd's death will hear closing arguments. There is hope his death will lead to reforms to make other children in detention safer. In a statement, Cleveland's mother, Nadene Dodd, told the inquest she thought her son would be "safe" in detention. "I thought my son was safe … and that he would leave detention rehabilitated … better, not worse off," she said in a statement. "My son didn't deserve to be treated the way that he was treated. My son didn't deserve to die." It raises the question: where are First Nations children safe? Where can they be allowed to grow up — and do all that comes with it? To learn, to make mistakes, to grow? Where is the safe place for them? In recent years, across the country, a slew of new legislation has been introduced by governments to get "tough on crime". These laws have often been spurred on by high-profile crimes and calls from the community and commentators for governments to take action to "protect" the community. These include "adult-crime, adult time" laws in Queensland, "post and boast" laws in New South Wales and soon Victoria, enhanced stop and search powers in Victoria, and new "street gang" laws proposed in South Australia. These laws will all target young people, with a view to stopping criminal activity from becoming ingrained behaviour, and have all been designed with "community safety" in mind. But that "safety" comes with unintended consequences, the brunt of which is usually borne by Indigenous communities. Over-policing of Indigenous communities leads to more Indigenous people in prisons, where they are less likely to be bailed, disproportionately locked up and over-represented among deaths in custody. But there is no guarantee these laws will have the desired effect. In fact, research shows that over-policing of young people leads to poorer outcomes, an increased likelihood of being on remand and further contact with the justice system. It can be the first domino to fall in what can lead to adult offending, jail time and all of the well-documented risks that come with being Aboriginal in prison. Risks that took Cleveland Dodd's life, and almost 600 other First Nations people since the Royal Commission into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody in 1991. The coronial inquest into Cleveland Dodd's death will make findings on the factors and events leading up to his death in 2023 and whether there were institutional failings. This will include looking at whether the juvenile wing, Unit 18, was a safe place to house young people, and the numerous warnings provided about conditions inside it. Removing hanging points from prisons was a recommendation of the royal commission 35 years ago, but many still remain and in some cases, as reported by The Guardian last month, the same hanging points have been used in multiple suicides in prison. But there have been no reactive law changes to make children in prisons safer following Cleveland's death. No snap legislation to make the conditions he died in illegal, and Unit 18 remains open with children kept in detention alongside adults, despite calls for the unit to close immediately. It is hard to imagine many reasons why the first child to die in detention in WA would not mark a turning point, a moment in which the state government would say "never again". Cleveland's death has largely been met with silence by legislators. The issue of racism has been threaded through Cassius Turvey's murder, after his attackers used racist slurs as they "hunted" Cassius and his friends down. At the time, the police commissioner, Col Blanch, was quick to dismiss notions of the attack being racially motivated, saying Cassius was "in the wrong place at the wrong time". But in the community, the fear was real; it was palpable. Mothers knew their children weren't safe to be visibly blak and walking through their suburbs. After Cassius's killers were sentenced, Mechelle Turvey said her son had been "racially vilified". "That's the truth. If anyone thinks their actions were not racially motivated, many Australians would be left scratching their head," she said. The West Australian Supreme Court did not prosecute whether Cassius had been the victim of a racially motivated attack, but Justice Quinlan said the use of racist slurs "rippled" throughout the community and created "justifiable fear". "It's no surprise … that the kids would think they were being targeted because they were Aboriginal, and the attack would create justifiable fear for them and for the broader community that this was a racially motivated attack," he said. "The fear is real and legitimate. You are responsible for that fear." Despite this, there has been no "tough on crime" response — no move by legislators to toughen up laws against racial attacks, refuse bail to offenders or increase police powers to address racially motivated crimes. The need for Indigenous communities to feel safe has not spurred on reactive legislation that could see harsher punishment for using racist slurs, despite hate speech being a known precursor to racially motivated violence. The safety of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people is too often compromised by members of parliament needing to be seen to be doing their best to "protect the community" — despite the numerous studies and experts telling them what the consequences for First Nations people will be. After the justice processes for Cassius and Cleveland have concluded and their families left to grieve away from the spotlight, the question will remain: will anything be done to protect Indigenous kids from the communities that harm them?


The Guardian
11 hours ago
- The Guardian
Prison treatment of Indigenous teenager Cleveland Dodd was cruel, lawyer tells inquest
An Indigenous teenager who fatally self-harmed in detention was subjected to 'cruel and inhumane' treatment, a lawyer for his family said after the inquest into his death resumed. Cleveland Dodd was found unresponsive inside a cell in Unit 18, a youth wing of the high-security Casuarina prison facility for adults in Perth, in the early hours of 12 October 2023. The 16-year-old was taken to hospital in a critical condition and died a week later, causing outrage and grief in the community. A lawyer for Cleveland's mother Nadene Dodd was scathing of the care provided to the teenager by justice department staff, as he gave submissions to the Western Australian coroner's court on Monday. 'Cleveland was subjected to institutional abuse, cruel and inhumane treatment,' Steven Penglis told the inquest. The teenager spent more than 22 hours a day in his cell for 74 of the 86 days he was detained in Unit 18 before he self-harmed, he said. Over that period, he had four hours of recreation time, equating to about three minutes a day. His cell had no running water and in the hours before he was fatally injured he asked for water six times, Penglis said as he recapped evidence heard during the inquest that started in April 2024. Cleveland threatened to self-harm eight times and requested medical attention. His actions were the conclusion of a series of events, including being denied bail, a failed attempt to call his mother on her birthday and severe, untreated dental issues, Penglis said. 'Cleveland's death was preventable and predictable,' he said. An Aboriginal Legal Service lawyer, Julian McMahon, said the inquest revealed there was a readiness across all levels of the justice department to accept the unacceptable. 'What happened at Unit 18 was horrific,' he said in his submissions. There was an 'epidemic of self-harm' among a cohort of mostly Aboriginal children, he said. 'By self-harm, I mean attempted suicide,' McMahon said. There had been at least 17 self-harm threats in the 24 hours before Cleveland fatally injured himself, he said. Lawyers for senior justice department staff said their clients should not be subject to adverse findings, including former director general, Adam Tomison. How the facility was run was not his responsibility and corrective services staff should have followed policy, lawyer Jerome Allan said Tomison previously agreed children had been subject to appalling, cruel, inhumane and degrading treatment in Unit 18 under his watch. The justice department apologised to Cleveland's family and said there were many issues in Unit 18 in 2023, including damaged infrastructure, excessive detainee confinement and staff shortages. On the night Cleveland self-harmed, he was not properly supervised and should have been given more water, lawyer Tim Russell said. 'More should have been done,' he said. But the department did not accept Unit 18 was unfit for youth detainees. The inquest previously heard Cleveland self-harmed about 1.35am and paramedics arrived at 2.06am, but did not get access to him for nine minutes. Cleveland died, surrounded by his family, on October 19, 2023. In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is 13 11 14. Indigenous Australians can call 13YARN on 13 92 76 for information and crisis support

ABC News
13 hours ago
- ABC News
WA government apologises to family of Cleveland Dodd at inquest into his death
WARNING: This story discusses incidents of self-harm and contains the name and image of an Indigenous person who has died. The WA government has formally apologised to the family of Cleveland Dodd, whose death was the state's first recorded fatality in youth detention. Cleveland was 16 when he died after self-harming inside Unit 18 — a youth detention facility hurriedly set up inside maximum-security Casuarina Prison. An inquest probing his death began more than a year ago, and today heard closing submissions from lawyers on behalf of those involved in the case. Through its lawyer, the WA Justice Department apologised for its failings "connected with Cleveland's death". They said there had been "great change" in youth detention since and its Commissioner expressed "regret and remorse" for what had happened. Grant Donaldson SC is representing Christine Ginbey, who was the deputy commissioner for women and young people at the time of Cleveland's death. He told the court "there could be no doubt there was a staffing problem at Unit 18" which contributed to young people getting minimal time out of their cells. The inquest had earlier heard that in Cleveland's final 86 days in detention, he was allowed outside in the yard for a total of only four hours and 10 minutes — an average of less than three minutes a day. But he said staffing was an "extraordinarily complex issue" and that it was difficult to get people to work in jails and detention centres as required skills were difficult to train. Mr Donaldson also said his client should not be blamed for inaccuracies in a promotional video she recorded about how Unit 18 would operate, because they had been drafted by a strategic communications professional and checked by the then-director general. Earlier, before Mr Donaldson made his arguments, Cleveland's mother Nadene said she had to walk out of court because "the recapping of the horrific neglect of my son was inhumane beyond words". "It was both barbarous and criminal," she said. "If people are not held to lawful account then justice will have been denied." Her lawyer Stephen Penglis SC had told the court Ms Dodd wanted the Justice Department to implement all recommendations made by the coroner to minimise the chance of another young person taking their life in detention. Mr Penglis said the small amount of time Cleveland spent outside of his cell amounted to "cruel, inhumane and degrading treatment". He water was not given to Cleveland on the night he died despite his repeated requests, and that his threats of self-harm were not taken seriously. Because hatches in cell doors had been welded shut, providing water required "breaching" the cell, which needed the permission of the senior officer overnight. Mr Penglis said on the night Cleveland self-harmed, the officer on duty's refusal to do so was an "unreasonable, egregious and inexcusable failure" to provide a "human right". But Edward Greaves, representing that officer, Kyle Mead-Hunter, rejected those suggestions, saying his client had been told Cleveland was given extra water with dinner and that he did not recall any staff asking him to authorise further providing further water. "To try and blame this on one person and to blame it on Mr Mead-Hunter does not pass the test, in our submission." Mr Greaves had earlier accepted an adverse finding would be made against Mr Mead-Hunter for not wearing his radio on the night, which meant the officer who found Cleveland had to walk to Mr Mead-Hunter's office to get a key to unlock him. He said Mr Mead-Hunter "was failed by the system" and that "he learnt how the unit ran at night time from the [youth custodial officers] he was supposed to be leading". The Aboriginal Legal Service's lawyer Julian McMahon told the court the situation in youth detention prior to Cleveland's death had deteriorated because all levels of the department had been ready "to accept what is clearly, what was clearly, unacceptable". "We mustn't become immune to the horror of that concept, that a boy with some disability, with serious difficulties, was actually in solitary confinement for the last few months of his life," she said. Mr McMahon said there had been warnings about the issues at Unit 18 from when it opened and many of the first detainees there were recorded as self-harming. "What that tells you … is at that at that time and in hindsight without doubt, enormous resources were required and it tells you that without that enormous effort which did not eventuate Unit 18 was destined to and indeed did fail as a project," he said.