Tigers and…well, Moms.

When I saw the cover of Amy Chua’s memoir, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, I didn’t find the book at all interesting:

(Alright, she maybe had me at the mention of “two dogs”)

When I looked at the back cover, however, I was pret-ty surprised:

Even after having read the content in the back cover, I still didn’t know what to make of it, so I decided to give the book a read.

Some may wonder: why did I read a parenting book? More importantly, why am I writing about a parenting book? Before you get the wrong idea, I wasn’t looking to become a mother – and no, I also wasn’t trying to learn about parenting. When I was looking at the cover, however, parenting did cross my mind. I’m no where close to becoming a parent, but I’m a fan of parenting stories. Three things often come to my mind when I hear the word “parenting” – the parents, the child, and the discipline part. As a former Secondary English Education major, I did have an interest in working with children (and I still do) and in teaching (parenting and teaching are somewhat similar, think you not so?) – and maybe that’s why I was drawn into parenting books.

Chua, in her memoir, describes her childrearing journey of raising her two daughters, using a list of rules she prohibited her daughters from doing when they were in their early childhood. Out of the list, I probably only like one and a half – and here, I’m looking at the “no playdate” and “no computer games” part. I don’t think there is anything wrong with playing video games and I have nothing against playdates or computer games; if anything, the idea of becoming a “priest” actually interests me a lot! (that is, if you know what I’m talking about; and if you don’t know what I’m talking about, scroll down a few posts and you’ll probably know what I’m talking about.) But Chua is probably on to something. Nowadays – and I know I’m making an unwarranted generalization – if you tell kids to pursue their passion or give them a little too much freedom to pursue their passion, chances are they would pick video games, candies, and long hours of going on Facebook.

Anyway, the girls, at home, never missed a single day at the piano and violin, not even on their birthdays, on days when they were sick, had just had dental surgery, or when they were traveling. The girls sometimes practiced for four or five hours everyday, according to Chua. Things went well – smoothly, in fact – with Chua’s older daughter, Sophia. At times when supervising Sophia’s piano practicing, Chua would say to her daughter things like, “If the next time’s not PERFECT, I’m going to TAKE ALL YOUR STUFFED ANIMALS AND BURN THEM!” All the long practicing hours, however, did pay off. Sophia won lots of local prizes and was invited by teachers, churches, and community organizations to perform; she also played as the soloist at Carnegie Hall at the age of thirteen. For the younger daughter Lulu, Chua had her play the violin – a more difficult instrument than the piano. Things with Lulu, however, took a bad turn – and a serious one too. At the age of thirteen, the younger daughter started to rebel to the point that Chua eventually allowed her to play tennis (although not along with the violin).

Chua’s piece reminded me of a video I once saw (whether in my SEED classes or in my free time when I was surfing around the Internet, I have not the slightest memory) about the schooling system and the educational culture in Japanese schools, where students operate their lunch periods and perform custodian work themselves, cleaning, sweeping, and mobbing their classroom, the stair, and the hallway; and in Chinese schools, students often study for four or five hours everyday until 10:00 p.m. I have a love and hate relationship with the schooling system in eastern countries like China, Japan, etc. On one hand, I like the idea of teaching kids the values of strong work ethic, such as studying long hours and learning to do adult works at an early age. On the other, I dislike the emphasis on rote memorization and the idea that students cannot challenge authority figures who are older than you in the classroom.

I like our current schooling system, but I don’t think our schooling system is prefect as it is and in no way do I believe our schooling system is superior than other eastern countries’ like China’s and Japan’s. Although I don’t advocate that parents should threaten to burn their kids’ stuffed animals if they played a wrong musical note or received a grade less than an A, I think Chua’s piece (and her Chinese parenting style) raises an interesting point: hybridity. Our educational system can be improved, but we don’t need to change the whole thing. Rather, we can keep what we have – and here, I’m thinking about the dynamism in our schooling system, in which students can express their own ideas and challenge the authority (in a respectful manner) – and adopt things like the values of strong work ethic from eastern countries like China and Japan. This hybrid system, I think, would restore and make America “great,” and not by deporting people, Mr. T. I wonder if this hybrid model would work for our healthcare system as well. Alright, I think I’ll stop here before this turns into an academic piece.

– Jason