The Hymn of Risking Distinction

I recently read The Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. This book generated quite a bit of press, and created quite a bit of controversy.  You Tube is inundated with interviews with this author. Magazines have done spreads of her smiling flanked by her husband, daughters and two dogs, looking every bit the happy family.  There are too, photos featuring her standing grim faced, over her children as they practice their instrument.  One daughter plays the piano, and the other plays the violin.  I might add that both are accomplished musicians in their own right.  About a couple of months ago, my nephew handed me an article, which featured some excerpts from Amy Chua's book, that was read and discussed in his class  It seems that her book has sparked some serious debate and discussion regarding her parenting style, and her broad views on what is lacking in Western culture in terms of how Westerners rear their offspring, and the overall superiority of the "Chinese Mother" method of doing things, if you will.  While my nephew didn't offer an opinion one way or the other, he seemed curious as to what my thoughts were.  He being very familiar with my parenting style, having me as a second  mother, in addition to observing my parenting of his cousin, my six year old daughter. I am sure too, he recalls with  great affection, when I started him with piano lessons at the ripe age of 5.

 Having read the article, and being somewhat bemused by the content, I went ahead, got the book, and gave it a read.  Amy Chua's book, The Battle Hymn of the Tiger, reads like a memoir.  She gives a little family history, regarding her parents, and her own childhood.  But most of the book centers on the journey of parenting her children. She begins ceremoniously by telling us that her children were not allowed play-dates, sleepovers, or to participate in school productions, or to complain of these restrictions.  They had to practice their instruments for at least two hours every day.  No matter where they were, be it on vacations, the author would seek out a piano, and travel if necessary to where ever there was a piano, with her daughter in tow, so that she could practice.  Her other daughter needless to say, went everywhere, including vacations with her violin.  A grade less than an A is unacceptable.  Oddly enough, on the face of it, I don't disagree.  It is apparent that Ms. Chua holds both her daughters to a very high standard.  She expects that they work at all times to their fullest potential.  I certainly can't disagree with that.  In fact, I can admire Ms. Chua's determination, in not allowing her daughters to work "half assed" or just enough to "get by" in any of their endeavors.  And two hours of practice, every night?  I don't think that is terribly excessive, for middle school aged children who are serious students of music.  Play dates?  Sleepovers?  While I am certainly more liberal in my own parenting style in terms of play-dates, and sleepovers, I don't begrudge Ms. Chua's decision as a mother not to have her children engage in what she considers non essential extra curricular activities.  She kept her daughters busy.  Ms. Chua also remarked that she didn't let her children pick their own activities, or their instruments for that matter.  She as their mother, did the picking and choosing on both their behalves.  Admittedly, I don't find this egregious.  I don't believe being "strict" is necessarily a bad thing. What was not clear for me however, is the "why".  I  don't see, or understand why Chinese Mother's or the like are superior.  Is it because they are Math whizzes?  Top of their classes?  Get nothing but A's?  Play an instrument?    Is it because many get into Harvard, Princeton, Yale, or Brown?  Oh, maybe NOT Brown, as Ms. Chua states in her book, having overheard a conversation between a Westerner and a deranged "Chinese Mother", who happened to be observing her daughter play at a Tennis Tournament, all the while telling the the Westerner, how "weak" her child is, and how, the sister, is "much better", "much stronger", "she goes to Harvard".  The "weak" child who they were watching beat the ball back and forth, attends Brown.  I can only hope that  this "weak" child, was envisioning the head of this ignorant woman calling herself her mother, as she whacked the ball with her racket, away from her to the other side, and back again.  Is it because the other child goes to Harvard?  Is that what makes the other child "stronger"?Ms. Chua, while quick to say that this "parental favoritism is bad and poisonous",  is in her next breath quick to defend this insanity of the "Chinese" by citing examples of how this kind of undermining and comparison of siblings goes on in other cultures, even the Bible. And this makes it OK, because . . . . .?

It is acknowledged, rather fleetingly the suicide rates, among these over achievers, parented by maniacs, by condemning that "I did not want her (referencing her daughter) to end up like those weird Asian automatons who feel so much pressure from their parents that they kill themselves after coming in second on the national civil service exam".  Note that this acknowledgment comes disparaging, seemingly in direct contradiction to the 200+ pages.  The author spoke of hovering over her daughters' during their practicing, where she readily admits often lead to routine yelling, and screaming matches. Harsh criticisms, of their playing ensued.  But this wasn't simply in regards to practicing.  It lent itself also, to a harsh critique of a birthday card from her four year old, handing it back with a "I reject this", along with a diatribe of all that she does as the child's mother, for her birthday " I spend half my salary on stupid sticker and eraser party favors that everyone just throws away".  This to a four year old.  I am sure that the author would use this opportunity to say that Chinese parents can get away with addressing their children in that manner. "Chinese mothers can say to their daughters, "Hey fatty—lose some weight." she writes.  OK.  But should this daughter grow up to marry a man who would habitually address her that way, would that be be OK?  Perhaps it would.  Perhaps it is "Chinese" culture to crudely address people who you supposedly love and care about.  Ms. Chua's contempt for the way "Westerners" concern themselves with nonsense like self esteem is not lacking in subtlety.  Every other page seems to ridicule, belittle and condemn these "Western parenting" anxieties. What was interesting is she gives no mention of  how these children, or adults, reared by overly accommodating parents were ultimately impaired as a result.  Her husband, is in fact the product of such a household.  And as a Professor at Yale, I am going to go out on a limb here, but I surmise he survived.  I found it fascinating that Ms. Chua seemed very concerned with having her daughter's compete.  They both played, and won awards, and special acknowledgment for their musical achievements. The older daughter won the privilege to play at Carnegie Hall, and the younger child it was decided she should prepare, and try for Julliard's Pre-College Program. Why the constant competition?  Is it to send the message that you have to be the best?  Is it so she can say her daughters are the best?  Does this make them better people?  And how exactly, if this venture,  wrought with behavior bordering on abuse a benefit in the long term?  Or is this just another silly "Western" preoccupation?  I suppose it will look good on a college application.  Ms. Chua's uses the word "depth" frequently.  From her description of choosing the right hobby for her child, to her expert analysis of what was lacking in a speech her daughter wrote for her father's 50th birthday celebration.  Yet, what was was glaring to me was how hollow and devoid the author's sentiment.  It  rang superficial and exceedingly external.  That however is not to say that she is a mean spirited, hollow shell of a human being, but to say that much of her book, from my point of view presented her that way.    Ultimately however, I will say that I do feel that much  of her methods, she describes in her book,  for dealing, and addressing discord with her daughters' bordered on abusive.  Yelling and hollering hurtful and derogatory things and depriving food and drink, borders on abuse.  When it is habitual, then it is abuse, whether it is an Ivy League educated parent, going off about practicing piano, or a parent with a 10th grade education, going off about staining the carpet.

Nonetheless, having said all that, I must make the admission that I found my myself seething during the course of this fascinating, albeit frustrating read.  Without a doubt, this book triggered a lot of my own personal issues surrounding the way I was parented, and as a result, I can't hold the author entirely responsible for my visceral reaction to her book.  Although I can appreciate Ms. Chua's quest for imparting the importance of hard work and the benefit of discipline, I found her "voice" to be beguiling, misguided, self serving, and morosely lacking in compassion. Her broad generalizations regarding "Western" parenting got on my nerves too, as she offered nothing to substantiate her point of view that resonated with me in any way.  Her book, and it's tone overall seemed to mock "Western" parenting, in a way where initially I thought for a moment it was a parody.  I don't doubt for a second that this author wants nothing but her daughter's to succeed, and to succeed for themselves.  I believe sincerely that she believes she has their best interest at heart.  While she stated that she herself never thought in terms of "happiness" or being "happy", it is my hope that she begins to consider the importance of being happy, and the necessity of emotional health, in which joy is an important component, for her own sake, and for the benefit of her family.  Ms. Chua may think that happiness is perhaps a silly Westerner concept, but at the end of the day, is it better to be the janitor who is happy, and finds joy in the most mundane of activities?  Or to be a depressed, Harvard Medical School Graduate who speaks mandarin, plays virtuoso piano, and finds joy in nothing?