Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother (Chua)
Feb. 8th, 2011 02:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cahnI had finally come to see that Coco was an animal, with intrinsically far less potential than Sophia and Lulu. Although it is true that some dogs are on bomb squads or drug-sniffing teams, it is perfectly fine for most dogs not to have a profession or even any special skills.
Naturally, both girls felt the book shortchanged them. "You should definitely dedicate this book to Lulu," Sophia once said magnaminously. "She's obviously the heroine. I'm the boring one readers will cheer against. She's the one with verve and panache." And from Lulu: "Maybe you should call your book The Perfect Child and the Flesh-Eating Devil. Or Why Oldest Children Are Better. That's what it's about, right?"
Okay, so if you have kids or are Asian, and don't live under a rock -- probably even if only one of those applies -- you have heard of this book. So there was the WSJ excerpt declaring the superiority of "Chinese moms," the huge backlash, and the backpedaling by Chua pointing out that in fact her book wasn't like that, and somewhere in the middle of this my sister bought it, and so of course I read it too.
And Chua's right, it's nothing like the WSJ excerpt. It's... actually... really good, painfully aware of her shortcomings and inconsistencies as a mother, and howlingly funny, although judging from some of the reviews I've read, perhaps sometimes the humor can only be appreciated if you yourself have had a "Chinese mom." (She defines a "Chinese mom" as the highly controlling, highly demanding behavior that tends to characterize Asian-American parenting, and does not of course restrict it to Chinese moms alone; similarly, she talks about "Western parenting" as the opposite lenient choice-based model.)
The funniest part was when she tried to apply Chinese parenting to their dog. The first quotation above is pitch-perfect "Chinese-mom" resignation; my (Korean) mom has probably said almost exactly the same thing about both the Kid and me. The ending, where she is talking to her daughters and ends up in a rant against Western moms ending with calling the Founding Fathers Chinese, while her daughters point out she's being overwrought and rather silly, is priceless.
Also, my sister and I agreed that a) Amy Chua sounds exactly like our mom in personality and temperament, and probably our mom would have been exactly like that had she been born in the US and married to a Jewish guy and a law professor at Yale instead of a stay-at-home mom in NC, b) as it was Amy Chua was actually crazier than our mom -- at least we got vacations from practicing when we went on short vacations, and c) Sophia and Lulu reminded us a lot of us; we would totally have had similar comments as the above had our mom written a book about our childhoods.
One thing Chua mentions sometimes briefly but doesn't really dwell on, but which I think is key (and which assumption runs throughout her book -- she says to Lulu, at the climax, "We're giving up the violin," not "You can give up the violin"), is that success is really a joint family effort in the "Chinese-parenting" household in a way it's not in the "Western-parenting" household. My family is extremely close in a way that D finds a little unnerving, and any success we have is a team effort. I'm serious. I was editing the English in my dad's work reports when my English skills got better than his up until he retired, and I was expected to have a turnaround in hours unless I had something else more important going on. Similarly, when I need something from my parents I expect them to put it at the top of their priority list and deal with it Right Now. My mom even volunteered to look after E. for the first year of her life (we didn't take her up on it, but wow). Along the same lines, when my sister and I applied to college our essays were subjected to intense scrutiny and editing by the other three of us, not to mention my dad dragged his half-brother into reading them as well. No, no one wrote them for us, but yes, there was heavy revision going on. Because if I get into a good college that glory reflects on the whole family, and the whole family is invested in me. Et cetera.
I believe that this plays in with the concept of control. The problem is that there's a huge power disparity between parents and kids, so "I am invested in your success," which I think is a very positive thing, can too easily become "Let me control you so as to maximize your success, because I know better because I'm the parent" which is... I think, not as good, even if the parent does know best. Chua tries to have total control over her kids and it backfires spectacularly with Lulu. My mom had a somewhat similar thing with both of us.
What's the takeaway message? Chua and I are both conflicted on this. On one hand I feel it's important for kids to do things they don't necessarily want to do, like practice. Also, I will have high standards for E. and any other kids we might have -- I don't think they should get a report card grade of B until at least high school (and probably then too), absent a clear reason, and will view it as a family failure (see above on joint family effort :) ) should it happen. On the other hand, I also think it's important for kids to have autonomy and be able to make their own choices. I don't know where the line ought to be drawn. D's family all turned out amazingly well and rather better emotionally equipped than the Kid and I, so that may be a good place to start -- on the other hand, I have this musical skill that I feel has enriched my life dramatically, and D and his siblings don't have it, so there's that.
This book actually makes me want to go find my mom and dad and sister and give them big hugs, because it reminded me so much of my extremely- (sometimes the Kid and I say too!-) close relationship with them.
Naturally, both girls felt the book shortchanged them. "You should definitely dedicate this book to Lulu," Sophia once said magnaminously. "She's obviously the heroine. I'm the boring one readers will cheer against. She's the one with verve and panache." And from Lulu: "Maybe you should call your book The Perfect Child and the Flesh-Eating Devil. Or Why Oldest Children Are Better. That's what it's about, right?"
Okay, so if you have kids or are Asian, and don't live under a rock -- probably even if only one of those applies -- you have heard of this book. So there was the WSJ excerpt declaring the superiority of "Chinese moms," the huge backlash, and the backpedaling by Chua pointing out that in fact her book wasn't like that, and somewhere in the middle of this my sister bought it, and so of course I read it too.
And Chua's right, it's nothing like the WSJ excerpt. It's... actually... really good, painfully aware of her shortcomings and inconsistencies as a mother, and howlingly funny, although judging from some of the reviews I've read, perhaps sometimes the humor can only be appreciated if you yourself have had a "Chinese mom." (She defines a "Chinese mom" as the highly controlling, highly demanding behavior that tends to characterize Asian-American parenting, and does not of course restrict it to Chinese moms alone; similarly, she talks about "Western parenting" as the opposite lenient choice-based model.)
The funniest part was when she tried to apply Chinese parenting to their dog. The first quotation above is pitch-perfect "Chinese-mom" resignation; my (Korean) mom has probably said almost exactly the same thing about both the Kid and me. The ending, where she is talking to her daughters and ends up in a rant against Western moms ending with calling the Founding Fathers Chinese, while her daughters point out she's being overwrought and rather silly, is priceless.
Also, my sister and I agreed that a) Amy Chua sounds exactly like our mom in personality and temperament, and probably our mom would have been exactly like that had she been born in the US and married to a Jewish guy and a law professor at Yale instead of a stay-at-home mom in NC, b) as it was Amy Chua was actually crazier than our mom -- at least we got vacations from practicing when we went on short vacations, and c) Sophia and Lulu reminded us a lot of us; we would totally have had similar comments as the above had our mom written a book about our childhoods.
One thing Chua mentions sometimes briefly but doesn't really dwell on, but which I think is key (and which assumption runs throughout her book -- she says to Lulu, at the climax, "We're giving up the violin," not "You can give up the violin"), is that success is really a joint family effort in the "Chinese-parenting" household in a way it's not in the "Western-parenting" household. My family is extremely close in a way that D finds a little unnerving, and any success we have is a team effort. I'm serious. I was editing the English in my dad's work reports when my English skills got better than his up until he retired, and I was expected to have a turnaround in hours unless I had something else more important going on. Similarly, when I need something from my parents I expect them to put it at the top of their priority list and deal with it Right Now. My mom even volunteered to look after E. for the first year of her life (we didn't take her up on it, but wow). Along the same lines, when my sister and I applied to college our essays were subjected to intense scrutiny and editing by the other three of us, not to mention my dad dragged his half-brother into reading them as well. No, no one wrote them for us, but yes, there was heavy revision going on. Because if I get into a good college that glory reflects on the whole family, and the whole family is invested in me. Et cetera.
I believe that this plays in with the concept of control. The problem is that there's a huge power disparity between parents and kids, so "I am invested in your success," which I think is a very positive thing, can too easily become "Let me control you so as to maximize your success, because I know better because I'm the parent" which is... I think, not as good, even if the parent does know best. Chua tries to have total control over her kids and it backfires spectacularly with Lulu. My mom had a somewhat similar thing with both of us.
What's the takeaway message? Chua and I are both conflicted on this. On one hand I feel it's important for kids to do things they don't necessarily want to do, like practice. Also, I will have high standards for E. and any other kids we might have -- I don't think they should get a report card grade of B until at least high school (and probably then too), absent a clear reason, and will view it as a family failure (see above on joint family effort :) ) should it happen. On the other hand, I also think it's important for kids to have autonomy and be able to make their own choices. I don't know where the line ought to be drawn. D's family all turned out amazingly well and rather better emotionally equipped than the Kid and I, so that may be a good place to start -- on the other hand, I have this musical skill that I feel has enriched my life dramatically, and D and his siblings don't have it, so there's that.
This book actually makes me want to go find my mom and dad and sister and give them big hugs, because it reminded me so much of my extremely- (sometimes the Kid and I say too!-) close relationship with them.
