My take on the Tiger Mother

Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, by Amy Chua

This memoir about the author's obsessively strict parenting style and her children's resulting amazing accomplishments, was, for me, full of paradoxes.

Among them: I absolutely loved reading this book. But, I couldn't be like her.

Tiger mothers are, Chua says, not just Asians, but any who demand nothing short of academic and musical brilliance from their children. Chua scoffs at most Westerners for falling into the stereotypical lax parenting approach of not pushing children too hard, for fear of damaging relationships. What nonsense, she says!

Yet it seemed like much of what she did with her daughters was to please her parents, who raised her the same way. She talks about how being the harsh taskmaster will arm her daughters with accomplishments to navigate life, but also relates not knowing what to do next after she completed law school. She deferred to her father.

You cannot deny Chua's commitment to her daughters. It made me think of how much more I could do to help my children develop their talents. Just when I was reading along thinking, Wow, this mom knows how to get results! I should try this, she throws in the bit about rebuking her children for the sloppy birthday cards they presented her. They were 4 and 7. Does that break your heart too?

Whether Chua's wry satire was also at work here, pointing a finger at herself for this episode, I can't say. But that was my turning point.

The idea of a battle hymn suggests a fight. Who is rallying against Chua's tiger mother? Society? Her daughters? (Certainly the one who rebelled!)

Is the battle hymn instead the internal dialogue readers will have debating their own parenting strengths?

I said before I couldn't be a tiger mother a la Chua. I couldn't hold nightly shouting matches to complete musical drills. (First off, I'm too consumed in the laundry!) I couldn't openly compare my children to spur greater effort. I couldn't push, push, push at all costs. Ideally I want their drive to be their own.

I've learned, though, that children aren't always equipped with inner drive, a realization all the more confounding to this tiger child. Yes, I admit it. I couldn't be a tiger mother, because I was once a tiger child. (Note, not the child of a tiger mother, but a "self" tiger.)  I was very self-motivated. I may not have had much innate ability, but I worked really hard. School was my arena. When effort translated into accolades I thrived. I defined myself through my accomplishments.

When my life shifted to a different phase, gone too was the praise. I floundered a bit. Make that a lot. It took me a while to learn I am my qualities, not my accomplishments. I had to relearn, as an adult, that I am a worthy child of God. My tiger tendency of being very hard on myself lingers.

And this brings me to the chief paradox of Chua's tiger mother. She pushes her daughters to excel, but that success is measured by the world. Stellar grades, first-place competitions, Carnegie Hall performances -- these are all external recognitions. It is someone else telling you "Good job, you're worth something." (No, we shouldn't throw "good job"s to our children like the salt shaker sprinkled injudiciously, but we should be honest when we see our children trying their best, and thus further encourage them.)

It makes me wonder if the idea of worth is offset in the tiger model. Is that why parents push so hard, because they measure their own success through the vicarious accomplishments of their children?

No matter the triumphs, unless they are accompanied by a strong sense -- and love -- of one's identity, we set our children up for defeat if they depend on adulation. So I'll marvel at the work ethic Chua has undoubtedly instilled in her children (can I just say WOW!) and try to apply that in my family. But I'd rather teach my children to value themselves for how hard they've worked and not for the world's idea of a reward.

Chua sure is funny, though, and crafted a fascinating read. I only wish the book didn't shift in tone right before the end as the author, now a relenting tiger mother, limply speculates what will happen to her daughter who rebelled. What will her daughters be like as adults? Better yet, how will they raise their own children? I hope Chua will someday tell us.