I have an imaginary friend. His name is Jock. He’s not impaired like I am, because he’s a unicorn, and unicorns are pretty close to perfection. But he is handicapped, since, like me, he lives in a world that is not designed for people like him. He can’t take the bus, because he’s not human or an assistance dog, even though he’s sentient and can talk just fine. He can’t walk everywhere, either (the sidewalk? the highway?), so getting around is complex. Municipal bylaws mean he has to use the bathroom instead of going outdoors, but those handicapped stalls can be a tight fit. His phone needs to be hoof-friendly (and hoof-proof too, for those frustrating days), and, since he’s nearsighted (unicorns evolved from Indian rhinos), he has visual issues as well. But he can still work and earn a living, because people can see that he has accessibility issues, and they help him out. It’s not like he’s got nothing to offer. He’s just a little different, that’s all. And, yes, well, he does tend to charge moving vehicles at times, but rhinos are like that, and he’s usually well-behaved. Nobody’s perfect.

I’m not a unicorn. I’m autistic. Unlike Jock, I’m actually impaired, I think. That means that even in a perfect world, with society accommodating all my differences, I’d probably still have problems functioning. Some autistic people say there’s nothing wrong with us, we’re just different, and that the real problem is that society doesn’t want to accommodate our differences (the social-disability model). Others see ourselves as impaired as well as handicapped by societal norms. The medical model sees us as impaired, period, and in need of fixing. Disabled people generally don’t like the medical model. Hiss, boo. It’s true that some of us are higher-functioning than others, but regardless of how high-functioning we can or can’t be, we tend to think of ourselves as people with something to offer, same as everyone else. And, yes, well, we have our moments, too, but nobody’s perfect.

Unlike Jock, I can take the bus (though not all autistics can). My problem is mostly with communication in real time (autism seems to be a combination of sensory and nonlanguage-communication issues). Many, if not most, of us communicate more effectively in writing than in person or on the phone. (In person is usually hard; phone is usually harder.) Writing is slower, and it sits still while we figure out what it’s saying. (We can have a hard time following conversations.) Plus, we can take our time assembling words into sentences and trying them out to see if they seem right, and we can proofread what we say before we say it, all of which can be tricky in real time. Some of us are mute, and I think most of us freeze or frazzle in complex real-time communications, so we need text. The Internet is a godsend for us, and now that we have it, we’re in a position to start speaking for ourselves—if we can afford access. And if we can cope with how jumbled the Internet is. And if we’re allowed to use text instead of voice.

Here are a list of services that are available over the phone or in person, but not by e-mail, that I have had to deal with over the past few years:

• Canada Revenue Agency: phone (1-800 number)

• Noise complaints: phone only

• Police: phone only (Internet for only a few types of problems)

• Welfare office: phone or in person

• Residential Tenancy Office: you can inquire by e-mail, but getting a response isn’t easy; hearings on the phone, or in person if you beg; written submissions count toward decisions, but in-person contributions may detract if in-person communication is difficult. And going to judicial review is much, much less accessible.

• Human Rights Tribunal: submissions in writing, though there’s a phone conference to decide the hearing dates. You can phone but not e-mail your case manager. The tribunal says to give them 30 days notice for whatever accommodations you need in the hearing (which I assume is in person). This is great if you know what to ask for, but what do you ask for if you need to do the whole thing in writing? The human-rights clinic is in-person only (drop-in).

• Many other businesses and services take phone calls more seriously than e-mails, even when they offer both.

This is not to pick on these organizations in particular, but just to point out that it is common to need to talk in real time in order to communicate in society today and that there is no real provision for people who need to communicate in writing in order to participate as equals. In some cases, you can write letters instead of phoning. Writing is cumbersome compared to e-mail, but it beats nothing at all. But what if all services were equally available in text and voice modalities? E-mail and phone, equal in status. Would that be too much to ask? Then we wouldn’t be stuck getting other people to speak on our behalf or be stuck in silence.

And then people would get a chance to see what we can do.