Mean Mom Meets Tiger Mom: I Read the Book
Since I wrote my post last week on The Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, the parenting memoir by Yale University Law professor and writer Amy Chua, it’s gotten even more press — good, bad, backpedaling, explaining. I’ve read a lot of it, not all of it — but I did read the book, as promised.
One superficial observation: Wow. It’s short. Some of the chapters are only a few pages long. She claims she wrote the whole thing, save the last chapter or two, in a lightening-fast 6 or 8 weeks. Um, it shows. Not that it isn’t technically well-written, and it even has a few flashes of humor. But what it doesn’t have a whole lot of is insight.
In my previous post, my thoughts were based on that one Wall Street Journal excerpt, which triggered the kind of response newspapers kill themselves for (well, kill themselves if they weren’t already dying. Ba da bum! I made a journalism joke!). It was also the kind of response — a gajillion online comments, thousands of blog posts (mine included), and, within a few more days, many more articles — that authors and their editors and publicists dream about, the kind that sticks what might have been a kind of “eh” book onto the New York Times bestseller list (where it now sits).
Having now read the book (did I mention it’s short? With narrow pages with even narrower margins? Didn’t take me long, and I was in the middle of reading another book at the same time), I can say this with certainty:
- The WSJ, or Chua, or likely the both of them together, chose the most incendiary portion of the book to excerpt. Duh.
- The WSJ editor wrote a title — “Why Chinese Mothers are Superior” — he or she knew would provoke even more reaction. I know this; I used to write article heads for a living. You want people to read the piece.
- Chua is justified in claiming that her book is not a how-to parenting book, but is instead a memoir. (Despite the fact that articles about it (and, okay, its own back jacket copy) detail “how to be a Chinese Mother.”
- Methinks Chua may not be 100% clear on what makes the most satisfying memoir, which is true, palpable personal transformation. She never really, truly transforms. It’s more like she gives in — wisely, and not even cynically — when she realizes her choices are either to remain hyper-tough with her obstinate younger daughter, Lulu; or to lose the girl entirely.
I still maintain, though, that at root Chua’s approach can be a good one. I think being in control of what your children do, for example, is a good thing. I also think that saying to your kids, sometimes, in certain situations, things like “because I said so” is smart. It’s undervalued, not said enough anymore.
The battles Chua describes with Lulu over the violin were awful in some scenes. There were times I was shaking my head, such as the story of visiting Budapest, where Lulu and her older sister Sophia would play in a concert, billed as “prodigies from America.” I’m sure the girls would have killed no matter what, so it seemed way over the top that Chua insisted on hours of practice, with a local, hard-ass teacher, no less, right after they landed. What about jet lag? What about just hanging out in a foreign city for a while?
But those cringe-worthy scenes overshadow the fact that Chua knew — the way a mother just knows — that Lulu loved the violin. Loved it, but would have quit simply because she is a stubborn child. Surprise! Children can be stubborn! So what’s wrong with a mother saying, “listen, I’m not letting you quit. You can hate me now, and thank me later, ‘K?” Of course, as the Budapest story illustrates, she goes overboard. Like, by a lot. But I still (throw tomatoes if you like) don’t think she’s a bad mother. She’s the mother she is, and if what she’s said in the interviews is true (that her daughters and husband approved every word she wrote), her family probably also thinks she’s simply the mother she is, the one they have, and love.
I’ve been thinking about choices lately, the choices we make for our children, the choices I continue — in typical hard-ass mean-mom fashion — to make for my sons, in the firm belief that they’re just not all that good at making choices for themselves. Isn’t that obvious? Isn’t it clear as day that a 6- and and 8-year old boy are going to choose hot dogs for dinner and SpongeBob on TV all day (with regular breaks for Wii Sports) if the choice were all theirs? Yes, I see that there’s a long stretch between a parent choosing dinner fare and TV access for their kids, and compelling a child to practice piano or violin 5 hours a day.
But in another sense, it’s perhaps not so long a stretch, because it’s an attitude.
Some years back, I caught an episode of a thankfully short-lived parenting reality show on TV. The premise was that a parent would present a vexing parenting issue to the cameras, and then a coffee-klatch gaggle of fellow-parents, plus an “expert,” would offer advice. On this one show I watched a mom of three young girls was aaaaallll about giving her children choice. About everything. All the time. It was so ridiculous I naturally suspected that her tactics were exaggerated for the reality-show cameras. (Ya think?) Her days were a mess — she was preparing three different breakfasts, down to the girls choosing what plates they wanted. And it was all, she said, in an effort to plump up her children’s self esteem. She wanted to know, if she was so sincere and careful about giving her daughters their own choice, why her house was in near total chaos most of the time? Why weren’t they happy that way?
It was crystal clear to me, though, that these three girls were crazed and disrespectful and holy terrors not because they were bad kids, but because they were at a loss for what else to do, how else to react. It was clear that they were dying to be told what to do, to be told that they had to wear their winter coats that day, or finish their homework now, not later, or that while they could choose if they wanted their waffles plain or with syrup, breakfast on this busy morning was going to be waffles.
Not that they would have said it was limits and rules they wanted. No self-respecting under-21-year-old would admit, or even cognitively apprehend, that they want and need their parents’ guidance. But they do.
The Tiger Mom knows that. She knows it like crazy (with several meanings of “crazy” implied), but she knows it.
Have you read the book?
January 28, 2011 @ 4:52 pm
I have not read the book, but I do think that one of the biggest parenting challenges is knowing when to push and when to stop, when to be flexible and when to hold a hard line. Is Chau able to show any flexibility? Is that good or bad? Can one be flexible and consistent (the golden standard of parenting)? I don’t have any answers, but I do believe that Chau and the rest of us are really just trying to do our best.
January 28, 2011 @ 6:05 pm
I didn’t read the book and don’t plan to, since it doesn’t really interest me. But my takeaway from the original article and the follow up articles and conversations is this: parenting is all about balance and balancing the best you can. I have yet to meet the “perfect” mother or the “perfect” style, and frankly, the moment you have that second child, everything you know about parenting just flew out the window because that child is going to require you to approach things differently. Balance is what seemed to be missing from the original article and it is definitely what is missing in so much parenting methods today.
January 28, 2011 @ 7:25 pm
I have the book on order from the library….I’m at least 100th in line! So from a purely writer/publisher point of view–who cares what the book says! She’s hit a nerve. A very lucrative nerve. I’m sure Chua is enjoying (as she should) all this attention because her book is selling!
January 29, 2011 @ 8:39 am
I struggle with this, too. I mean – who doesn’t!? I’ve not read the book and don’t plan to but I’ve uttered the phrase “because I said so” more than I ever thought I would.
January 30, 2011 @ 10:20 pm
Denise,
I read the book too. I was curious, and I figured if I was going to read every article written about the book, as well as engage in discussion about the book with parents and fellow educators, AND chime in with my own two cents, I owed it to everyone, myself included, and even Amy Chua, to go to the source so to speak, and make up my own mind.
I finished the book in one sitting, and I agree with you that it comes across not as a parenting manifesto, but as what Chua claims she intended it to be- a personal memoir. Like you, I cringed many a time while reading, but I had a much clearer understanding of Amy’s motives and methods after reading the book.
What was also clear was how much she loves her girls, and wants what she believes is best for them, no matter how misguided (to me) her approach to expressing that love. To me there is a sort of transformation Chua goes through when she “gives in” to her younger daughter rather than risk losing her altogether. I love your phrasing/description- “She’s the mother she is.”
I agree with you that children thrive when they have what I call “certain freedoms within clear boundaries and guidelines.” There are ways to guide children, while being respectful, and there are times and places throughout a child’s life for a parent to say, “Because I’m the Mom,(parent) and I said so.” For me, those times usually center around issues of safety or health- when a child might not have the foresight to realize the potential consequences of an action or non- action- like being buckled in a car seat, or taking medicine, or staying up until 10:00 pm on a school night, for instance.
I try to help parents learn to create a supportive environment that will allow their children to make choices that will lead them to happiness and success on their own terms.
But as you noted, children do need and look for boundaries and limits to push against, even though they might never tell us so. It has been my observation and experience that too many choices, and not enough structure, leads to lost, angry, unhappy, out of control, kids and teenagers.
One thing that I appreciate about Chua’s book, and all the hype, is that it has spurred what to me is an important discussion and examination among parents and educators about what it is our children need, what we want for them, and how we want to parent/educate them to achieve our goals. I hope the discussion will continue in a positive way.
January 31, 2011 @ 9:22 pm
Hi Denise,
I haven’t read the book, no–but from what I’ve heard, it does indeed seem like the marketing gimmick was well planned. I admire you for being able to set limits and boundaries with your boys. I’m kind of a softie–partly because that’s who I am, partly because my particular kids are especially stubborn, strong-willed, and even oppositional. I’d really be curious to see Amy Chua parent my kids–esp the older one.
Having 50/50 custody is also a challenge. My ex is tougher on our kids–for which I am grateful–but then I turn into more like the grandma, who spoils them a bit too much at times.
Anyway–all very interesting to ponder. Thanks for the interesting thoughts.
February 6, 2011 @ 4:26 pm
Although it appears I’m kinda odd mom out, I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Laughed. Cringed. Laughed. Cringed. At no time while reading, did I ever think that Amy Chua did not love her children. I thought she was a kook, extreme, went overboard — all things that she herself admitted to — but who among us hasn’t done that in one way or another? I think she learned a lot about herself and her criticism of others, particularly “Western” parents. I agree that it really is more of a memoir than the “how-to” guide to Chinese parenting that the media would lead everyone to believe. I have no problem with its length, the margins, or any of that. For me, it was an honest telling of one woman’s parenting story, which, for me, came across as very refreshing. However, I do agree that, at the end, it seems she didn’t quite know how to wrap things up. But other than that I found it to be an entertaining read.