Each week, Benjamin Law asks public figures to discuss the subjects we’re told to keep private by getting them to roll a die. The numbers they land on are the topics they’re given. This week, he talks to Nas Campanella, the ABC’s national disability affairs reporter and the world’s first blind newsreader to operate the studio while delivering live broadcasts. She’s also co-author of the accessible children’s book All the Ways I See.
POLITICS
You’re the ABC’s first national disability affairs reporter. Did you have to lobby to create that role?
It came about because of the Disability Royal Commission. I knew that I wanted to cover it, so I went to the ABC, pitching that we have a national disability affairs reporter. Obviously, I had myself in mind [Laughs].
In the role, are you struck by how far Australia’s come – or by how far we’ve still to go?
I’m ever the optimist, but there are still circumstances where I’ll go to a cafe with my husband [fellow journalist Thomas Oriti] and my son [Lachie, 4], and my husband will be asked, “What does she want to order?” It happens less and less, but it still happens. But what I’ve also noticed – particularly now I have a child – is how wonderful parents are at talking to their children about disability. I’ve had children at daycare come up to me, tap me on the shoulder and say, “Hi, my name’s Joey! Can I show you this?” It’s very clear their parents are having smart, educated conversations with them about how to interact and communicate with me – and about the fact I’m a mum like any other parent.
What is best practice?
The dangerous thing is to say to your children, “Don’t ask” or “Look away.” I love it when children ask questions. Don’t tell them they’re being naughty by noticing that someone’s different. Ask the person – if they’re comfortable with questions – what words they like to use to describe their disability. I just tell people that I’m blind: I can’t see. I see with my hands instead of my eyes.
To what extent do you feel like the children’s book you’ve co-written [with Eliza Hull] is an act of advocacy for kids with disabilities?
I don’t see myself as an advocate: first and foremost, I’m a journo. What I wanted to create was a story with a central character who’s blind, because I didn’t get to read stories with people like me in them growing up. I wanted to create a story that shows that people with disabilities go to the beach just like anyone else. They just experience it in a slightly different way.
RELIGION
You grew up in western Sydney in a big, Italian-Australian family. Does that also mean Catholic?
Yeah, I grew up in a Catholic family with a very Catholic nonna and nonno, and had 13 years of Catholic education. My grandmother would constantly have her rosary beads on the go. Personally, I’m on the fence about what’s out there, although I still have the Catholic guilt thing.
You have to self-flagellate!
[Laughs] Yes, otherwise something bad will happen!
Is it true that you’ve had strangers get on their knees and pray for you?
I’ve lost count of the number of people who’ve pulled me aside in a food court, shopping centre or while I’m on the train going to work to pray for me.
Whoa, this is a common thing?
When I was in my late teens and early 20s, it would happen a lot. People would say they wanted to pray for a cure for my blindness. This is one of the things that I take issue with when it comes to religion. For some people, we – as disabled people – are seen as needing to be cured, to be fixed.
What’s your idea of pure hell?
I’m terrified of birds: I’ve been swooped a couple of times and been quite traumatised by it. My version of hell would be to be surrounded by hot chips, ibises and seagulls … and no one’s there to rescue me.
What’s your idea of heaven?
Being surrounded by family and friends on the beach with a good audiobook and really good food.
Where do you find a sense of community?
Family.
Where do you find awe?
With my son, playing Lego on the floor.
Where do you find meaning?
Now you’re making me teary … but it’s hearing from people who say to me, “We’ve never had a good experience with the media until we worked with you.” Or, “You did a story, my daughter had a similar experience and we just feel so validated.” Those things give me meaning. And motivation.
MONEY
Are you good with money?
I’ve always been very good with money.
Where does that come from?
It stems from how very difficult it was for me to get a job. Everyone else, in my teen years, was working part-time jobs in retail and fast food, and I couldn’t necessarily do those jobs.
That must’ve sucked.
It did, because I wanted to make my own pocket money and go and buy nice clothes, not rely on Mum and Dad.
I was going to ask whether you had any advice for teens with disabilities seeking work, but I wonder whether the advice should be for employers?
It should. People are out there who are willing to work, who want to be independent, earn their own money and be good employees. They exist. What we’re still severely lacking is employers’ willingness to take these people on. There’s still not enough knowledge about making adjustments to make workplaces accessible, but there are organisations where people with lived experience [of disability] work as consultants. Look harder: find them. When I was 15 or 16, often I was writing my friends’ job applications.
Really? That’s hilarious.
I had two friends who were just so scared to call up their local dress shop to ask for work experience, and I was like, “I’ll just pretend to be you and do it for you.”
I love how that subverts the assumption that it’s someone with a disability who needs the help.
[Chuckles] Wholeheartedly, I can say – and I don’t think they’d dispute this – I’ve helped most of my friends a lot!
diceytopics@goodweekend.com.au