Asian Parents

In honor of the book I'm reading (Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother by Amy Chua, I shall talk about my Asian parents. Chances are, they're probably going to read this without informing me of their intent to do so (as is the Asian-American way), but I've grown used to that. They keep tabs on my Facebook, how should this be any different? Haha.

First, a bit about the book. The epithet reads:


"This is a story about a mother, two daughters, and two dogs.

This was supposed to be a story of how Chinese parents are better at raising kids than Western ones.

But instead, it's about a bitter clash of cultures, a fleeting taste of glory, and how I was humbled by a thirteen-year-old."


This pretty much describes the book. I like how Amy Chua phrased "a fleeting taste of glory;" it sounds poetic (perhaps unintentionally) to me.

Within the Chua household, the two children, Sophia and Louisa (Lulu), were not allowed to do several things:

- attend a sleepover
- have a playdate
- be in a school play
- complain about not being in a school play
- watch TV or play computer games
- choose their own extracurricular activities
- get any grade less than an A
- not be the #1 student in every subject except gym and drama
- play any instrument besides the piano or violin
- not play the piano or violin

What does this sound like? Well, to some, it may sound like hell. Derive a child of the pleasures of childhood in the form of Teletubbies and Looney Tunes? Heaven forbid. Although, to be fair, I'm actually serious about Looney Tunes. That's some good stuff right there.

But I digress. The concept behind this seemingly Spartan method of raising children is this: Chinese parents, or any nationality of parent that uses this parenting methodology, such as Koreans, Japanese, Ghanians, etc., believe that their children inherently have the capability of doing anything they want; they just have to be pushed hard enough. Childrens' minds are immature; they are incapable of making wise decisions and therefore must have an experienced mind decide everything for the well-being of their futures. Not only can that experienced mind decide everything for their child(ren), it can also resort to any means to make that future happen. "Any means" may include the burning of stuffed animals, the labeling of children as garbage, the denial of food, and the lack of pity.

Child abuse? No, try cultural differences. Compare this methodology to the Western parenting style: Every child is special in their own way, even if they are absolutely talentless. Surely said talentless child must be compassionate, creative, loyal? If such a child exists, there's no need to force the impossible on him (*coughHarvardcough*). Why not stick to the wholly simple, like making bead necklaces and or being content with failing grades?

You see the contrast. There's only one thing I can say about it: It's not pretty. Allow me to share a few examples of Asian-American parenting.

A friend said that when she was young and still learning piano, her mother forced her to practice over 3 hours a day or risk having her stuffed animals thrown away.

Another mother would yell and even throw things at the sight of a B+. A-'s would illicit scowls and bad tempers.

Extra credit is NOT an option, it's a requirement- according to parent #3.

Another mother is forcing a friend of mine to apply to 10 colleges, all prestigious. (Harvard and Princeton were definitely on the list.)

Finally - and this may not relate to me personally, but it's funny - I read online somewhere that a Chinese immigrant parent named her son Harvard in hopes that he would get in. (Did he get in? The world shall never know.)

Now personally, my parents are not nearly this strict. True, I have no cell phone, am not allowed to date until I get married (icwudt), or do anything overtly fun, but at least I didn't have to practice my violin 3 hours a day. Now that. That would've been horrible.

I really like how Amy Chua depicts herself in the novel. I finally get to see it from a parents' perspective: the frustration, the desperate hope that her offspring will make something of themselves, and the amount of time devoted to furthering her children's "careers." But is this all worth it, I wonder. The risk of resentful grown-up children that don't visit during Christmas is too great for my liking; I will not raise my kids the Asian way. (But then again, Amy Chua says that research indicates that most children are grateful to their parents. Wrap your heads around that, anons.)

Contrarily, though, some friends and I, perhaps jokingly (and perhaps not) have determined that our children shall start learning three languages, two instruments, one sport, and advanced academic courses with outside tutoring by the time they're 8. Perhaps all this has been inbred into us by strict parents. Only time will tell if we all bring forth precocious child prodigies.