In a poignant exploration of love and connection, John Harris's memoir, Maybe I’m Amazed, chronicles the life of his autistic son, James, and the transformative power of music. Through a series of ten chapters named after songs, Harris delves into the challenges and joys of parenting a child with autism, revealing how music serves as a bridge to understanding and communication.
Harris begins the narrative with a vivid scene of his 15-year-old son, James, completely absorbed in a live performance by Paul McCartney. The moment captures the essence of their relationship, emphasizing how music has been a constant source of joy and connection in their lives. "So held in the moment that he is almost in an altered state," Harris reflects, illustrating the profound impact music has on James.
James was diagnosed with autism in preschool, and as he grew, his unique abilities began to emerge. Notably, he possesses absolute pitch, allowing him to identify individual notes and name the keys of random songs played to him on Spotify. This remarkable talent serves as a focal point in Harris's memoir, showcasing James's intense, obsessional connection to music.
One of the most striking anecdotes in the book occurs when James, after refusing to go to school, commands Alexa to play the Smiths’ The Headmaster Ritual, with its lyrics, "Give up education as a bad mistake." This moment not only highlights James's musical affinity but also reflects the struggles many parents face in navigating the educational system for children with special needs.
Harris and his wife, Ginny, quickly find that support for children with special educational needs is often lacking. They spend their savings on early, intensive therapy for James and prepare legal cases to secure the support he needs in school. As Harris poignantly notes, "Around 70 percent of working-age autistic people did not have a job," underscoring the grim reality many families face regarding the future of their autistic children.
Despite these challenges, Maybe I’m Amazed is not a tale of despair. Instead, it celebrates the joyous moments that music brings into their lives. Harris recounts how James could not learn the days of the week until he heard them recited in the chorus of Police on My Back by the Clash. This revelation illustrates how music can provide structure and understanding in ways that traditional methods may fail.
Throughout the memoir, Harris reflects on his own journey as a music journalist, noting the parallels between his experiences with gifted musicians and his son’s unique talents. He recalls an interview with Ian Brown of the Stone Roses, who responded to questions by honking on a harmonica embedded in a toy banana, highlighting the often complex relationship between artists and the ordinary world.
Harris's background in music journalism informs his perspective on autism, as he recognizes that many talented individuals share similar traits with his son. He muses on whether the trauma of moving homes and the arrival of a younger sibling might have influenced James's condition, reflecting the deep-seated guilt and uncertainty that often accompanies parenting a child with special needs.
As the narrative unfolds, Harris paints a vivid picture of the everyday realities faced by families with autistic children. He describes a trip to Chester Zoo, where James, instead of marveling at the penguins, becomes fascinated with the wood chips covering the path. "I get the sense if he was left to his own devices, he might repeat the cycle indefinitely," Harris writes, capturing the unique way in which James interacts with the world.
Harris also addresses the societal challenges that autistic individuals face, noting the "almost Victorian levels of cruelty" inflicted on those in care. He emphasizes the need for compassion and understanding, arguing that autistic traits are part of the human experience. "You might say we’re like everyone else – only more so," he reflects, inviting readers to reconsider their perceptions of autism.
One of the most heartwarming moments in the book occurs during a 2019 concert when James sees Kraftwerk perform. The absence of improvisation and the precision of their performance resonate deeply with him, causing him to flap his hands in joy. For James, the experience is not just thrilling; it is a moment of pure acceptance, free from the usual obstacles he encounters.
Ultimately, Maybe I’m Amazed is a testament to the power of music and its ability to foster connections between individuals. Harris's journey is not one of despair but of acceptance, as he learns to embrace the complexities of his son's condition. The memoir culminates in a message of hope, suggesting that despite the challenges, there is a path toward joy and fulfillment.
As Harris concludes, the story of his family is a reminder that autistic individuals are part of a broader neurological family, with traits that can be found throughout humanity. This moving portrait of love, acceptance, and the transformative power of music resonates deeply, offering readers a glimpse into the beauty and complexity of life with autism.
Maybe I’m Amazed: A Story of Love and Connection in Ten Songs by John Harris is available for purchase, inviting readers to explore this heartfelt journey of family, music, and acceptance.
