Battle Hymn of the Not-Quite-So-Vicious Mother

This week I finally got around to reading Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, by Amy Chua. It seems to me that everyone has been regressing to their chimpanzee roots over this book, especially because my (secretly evil) Japanese professor created a class especially to compare Western and Eastern cultures, using Chua’s story as the textbook, and my amazingly wonderful perfect Writing professor gave us about three New York Times and Times articles to read that picked this book to death. 

Personally, I don’t see what the big deal is. 

Yes, Chua threatened to burn all of her daughter’s stuffed animals. And yes, she frequently acted like an ostentatious asshat. 

However

is there really a parent out there who has never threatened to throw away all of their children’s toys? My mother certainly threatened me with that time and time again. 

“If you don’t clean your room I will break out the garbage bags and you can say GOOD-BYE TO ALL OF YOUR STUFFED ANIMALS.” 

My mother would say this kind of thing to me all the time. I was also eerily reminded of my childhood in this particular scene: 

“I need a haircut,” Lulu said one day.

I replied, “After you spoke to me so rudely…you expect me to get in the car now and drive you where you want?”

“Why do I have to bargain for everything?” Lulu asked bitterly.

That night…Lulu locked herself in her room. Much later…I went to see her and found her sitting calmly on her bed.

Lulu had taken a pair of scissors and cut her own hair. 

My mother used my hair as a threat, too.  “If you don’t put your dishes away I’M CUTTING YOUR HAIR.” 

I was always particularly vain about my hair, which hung around my hips for most of my life. For me, this was a threat. For Lulu, it was a dare. 

For the most part, I was less exasperated with Chua’s parenting style and more annoyed at calling it the “Chinese style.” While in the beginning she acknowledged that she has seen Westerners act like Chinese parents, I still have no real idea of where she came up with her model. Her own parents and siblings often tell her to shut the hell up, and if Chua refuses to listen to the wisdom of her own parents, who are immigrants, and therefore profoundly Chinese (maybe even more than she is!), then I wonder how she can call this system anything but “The Amy Chua Perfectionist System.” 

However, we know from the very beginning of the book that Chua is going to change her tune—at least a little bit. The subtitle of Tiger Mother reads, How I was humbled by a thirteen-year-old. It is obvious by page one that no matter what you think of Amy Chua’s parenting system, karma is coming for her. 

Despite karma and controversy, Chua does have a point with Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. American parents are letting their children get out of hand. While Chua does not answer this problem with a definitive or even acceptable solution for how to parent in the 21^st century, she at least addresses the issue. American parents are trying too hard to be their child’s friend, or worse, spending too much time on themselves and completely ignoring their child. 

Chua writes how sometimes she longed to jet off to California with her girlfriends for a spa weekend, but she knew her children must always come first. This is an admirable attitude, if a little out of proportion. Having children should not have to equal the death of the self. This is where parenting can get tricky. 

If you look at the grade school kids in America today, they are rebellious, disobedient, and uneducated. This is the fault of the parents who fail to instill in their children courtesy, proper respect, and a love of education. By caring too much or too little, these children grow up as spoiled rotten brats—and who knows what they will do when they’re grown up? 

What I admired most about Chua was how she was not afraid to be hated by them or take the blame. She did what she felt was best for them—even if she took it too far. And I think that it is important to remember that although verbally she was abusive, she was never physically abusive towards either of her daughters. Not once in the book does she mention doing more than spanking the child, and when she tried to kick her youngest daughter Lulu out of the house in the middle of winter, she immediately recoiled and coaxed her daughter back inside, where she got a warm bath and a cup of hot chocolate. 

And as for all of the shouting, look where it got Sophia and Lulu--Sophia went to Carnegie Hall to perform, and their parents took them all over the world. I wish that someone had taken me to Saint Petersburg when I was younger.

 Parents should be more willing to take the risk of being hated by their child if it means they will grow up to be a good person and admirable citizen--(or, to use my mother's words, "well rounded"). Chua’s daughters are shown to be generally very respectful, well-educated, and dedicated, which would show that Chua is not wrong for persisting in her unique parenting techniques. 

My mother has done things I wish she hadn’t, and we have had battles I wish we would not have. But never for one second did I entertain the notion that she was doing these things to hurt me, or because she did not love me. Lulu and Sophia, Chua’s children, seem to share this sentiment. 

Was Chua frequently out of line? YES. 

Is she ostentatious and self-glorifying? YES.

Is she completely wrong here? 

I would have to answer that with an I don’t think so.