by Cheryl Lacey, DGSJ, ©2026
(May 1, 2026) — People who work in schools are observers of disengagement, but noticing is not the same as knowing.
At what point does a teacher’s observation become a reason to reach into the private life of a family, and how far is too far?
Family law in Australia is not what most people imagine. At its most contested it is strategic, adversarial, and operating under conditions that would unsettle anyone seeing them clearly for the first time.
James Glissan, a practising lawyer in New South Wales, describes a pattern now almost routine in disputed family law matters. When proceedings begin, whether over parenting arrangements or property, an Apprehended Violence Order is almost always taken out at the same time, or just before.
The two proceedings run in parallel. The AVO is civil, not criminal, but it reshapes parenting arrangements, restricts contact, affects employment, and can be detrimental to a person’s life for life.
And the standard it is judged against does not require certainty, only that one version of events is more likely than the other.
And as Glissan observes, family law creates significant room for evidence that would never be admitted in a criminal court.
The more serious the allegation, the more evidence should be required, but in practice that principle is applied unevenly, in proceedings conducted on incomplete and deeply conflicting material.
It is this very system where a school report, a recorded teacher judgement, or an account given informally to one parent can feed into. Whether knowingly or not, teachers and their colleagues becomes party to life changing conditions.
When a teacher identifies disengagement, what does it actually take to be satisfied the teacher should be involved?
Courts have spent centuries identifying what counts as evidence, how much of it is needed, and who gets to respond before a finding is made.
But teachers, by the nature of their work requiring direct contact with a child, can immediately commence an investigation, purely on the basis of an observation.
And any findings that enter a legal system with its own rules about what counts and what doesn’t. When it’s all over, the teacher moves on, but the family doesn’t get that option.
When a school employee becomes part of a family law dispute, it is bringing the state into the most private crisis a family will ever face.
Australians can shoulder a great deal. What they tolerate poorly is the sense that the goalposts are moving, that the rules are unclear and applied unevenly. Family law, at its worst, produces exactly that feeling. School employees are sometimes the ones moving the goalposts.
Ultimately there is a real difference between a mandatory reporting obligation, which exists for good reason and becoming a participant in a very personal and often times devastating legal dispute.
Enjoyed this article? It was inspired by my conversation with James Glissan on The Cheryl Lacey Show. Listen to the full episode for more education and the law – and subscribe so you never miss a conversation.
Listen to or read the rest here.