Tiger Mommy?

One thing that I have gotten to do a lot more of since moving to Tucson is reading. I love, love, love to read. It is mental therapy- so long as you avoid reading the likes of Helter Skelter. I like to vary what I read and in the past two weeks I have almost read four books. I have read two Sue Grafton mysteries, which are my favorite guilty pleasure. She is exceptionally talented at crafting a great mystery. I have also read The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein. Reading that book was like devouring a chocolate cake with a cold glass of milk; simply sublime. Right now I am in the middle of reading The Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother by Amy Chua. The book was written as a sort of coming of age memoir of Chua's experience of raising her two daughters using the Chinese parenting style while living in the US. In all honesty, I wanted to read the book after listening to the ladies on the View discuss it. I have said it many times before and I will say it again, "If you really want to get an education about what is going on now, stay home and watch the View and Ellen; perhaps some Oprah to for good measure."

So I am completely engrossed in this book and the philosophy of Chinese parenting. I expected to listen to each of her personal anecdotes and scoff at them with disbelief. I fully expected to laugh out loud and perhaps be horrified at this woman's idea of parenting. Why did I think that I would know better than 3000 years worth of Chinese maternal parenting put on perfectly by one very strong willed mother with two kids? Probably because I am American and think I know better because I went to college blah, blah, blah.

Here are a few highlights.

1. Chua is not above threatening her children with starvation, burning of precious stuffed animals and icy cold temperatures in return for perfect performances in any given arena.

2. Chua thinks that people who believe that following astrology will somehow give them some insight into her children are "weird."

3. Chua makes her kids practice despite their constant complaints. She feels that a child or person cannot fully enjoy something until they have mastered it. The complaints are just bumps in the road of success.

4. Chua does not want to raise children who are willing to question authority.

5. Chua pressures her children without fear of "breaking" them. She pushes them hard because she truly believes they can become successful. This in a nut shell is why she feels so many Chinese children are much more successful in relation to their Western counterparts.

My take on the 5 highlights:

1. I, too, do not feel above threatening my child with an array of possible punishments in order to raise an obedient child. Chua says that the word obedient is looked down upon by Westerners, while in China it as seen as a very high virtue. I find obedience to be a virtue. I always listened to my teachers and did what was expected of me as a child. True, I may have thought that I was more intelligent than some of them, but I would never say this to their faces. That is what my mom was for. However, perhaps unlike Chua, I like to have some banter with my child. I like the playfulness. It is part of my personality. I do not want to raise a child robot...unless it is a child robot that cleans and cooks.

2. Following astrology is not weird. Perhaps if Chua did follow child astrology, she would have better known what she was getting into with her very rebellious second daughter. I am a Scorpio through and through, and I was one before I even knew what one was. Luke is a Capricorn through and through too, and Matt is most certainly a Leo. I would never tell Luke that he is a Capricorn, and this is how he should be because that is weird. The Chinese even have their own Zodiac system, so why Chua thinks your weird if you believe it beyond me. Her disbelief can probably be attributed in some capacity to her sign.

3. I had never thought about making Luke practice something and what I would do if he didn't want to practice. This whole concept really peaked my interest. Chua describes screaming matches with her daughters over practicing the violin and piano so much to the point where you the reader are begging for Lulu or Sophia to take the damn night off, but Chua doesn't let up. Even better, her children win great prizes and perform at places like Carnegie Hall. They have awesome, really awesome- not like a 2 for 1 sale on pants at New York and Company awesome, experiences that brings them immense happiness and joy. She says, and I agree, that most Western parents would have let their children slack off or even give up for fear of placing too much pressure on their children or having their children dislike them. So I think, that yes 90 minute practices may seem excessive every day, but you have to ask yourself if you think that with those practices will your child be able to gain something in life that is worth it. You have to consider if your child will be alright with that talent never fully being tapped or wasted later in life. I think most Western adults at one point or another say, "I wish my mom or dad would have not let me give this up or would have made me work harder at that. It's too late now." I doubt many Chinese adults say that. And yes for all the snarky snarks out there, I am sure there are some Chinese adults that have some sort of equally sad statement to say like, "I wish my mom let me be a girl scout. It's too late now."

4. Chua describes a scene where a Russian teacher, who is giving a one day violin lesson for her daughter Lulu before a very big concert, slaps her daughter's fingers with a pencil. Lulu says nothing, and nobody in Chua's family who is watching says a word either. The teacher wants Lulu to change the way she holds the violin, something she has been doing for years, because she personally does not care for it. The angry Russian teacher strikes again. The onlookers watch and say nothing. Lulu excuses herself to use the restroom. Chua tries to convince Lulu to go back and finish her lesson because she made a commitment and blah, blah, blah . This is one area where I have to say Americans in particular are far more superior in. We like a good rebellion, especially one with just cause like losing our freedom, losing our whiskey or in this case being whacked by an angry Russian stranger in front of your family. I would have come unglued by this incident, and I am sure that I would have created an uprising that would have surely involved the US consulate ensuring my safety back to America. Teaching your child to not be mistreated is of the utmost importance in my book; however, making sure they are not a jack ass about it is of equal importance too. They have to wait to be jackasses until their behavior no longer shames their parents.

5. The thought of pushing my child because I thought he could be the best at something had never dawned on me before. This may be in part due to the fact that my child is four and having him not urinate all over the toilet seat is still a highly praiseworthy event. My view of early childhood education had always been to allow this to be a time of great exploration where kids could not fail at anything. I guess my feelings were similar to those of Barbara Streisand's character of Meet the Fockers. I just thought, "They are little. Let them float around willy-nilly and see where they land." Reading Chua's memoir made me realize that while I am allowing Luke to float around like a wayward Dandelion fuzzy, somewhere, some other four year old is really being pushed and is achieving. Now, here is the crossroads: I don't want my kid to be happy and dumb any more than I want my kid to be smart and miserable. How do you achieve the balance? I understand that life is about give and take and all those other cheeky phrases that older ladies like to sew on pillows, but I want to know how to do it as close to the right way as possible.

So that is my new mission. I do not want to be a tiger mom, but I also don't want to be a Shih Tzu mom, they are dumb. We'll see where this new road takes me.