A new memoir of bad-ass parenting, Chinese style, from a self-proclaimed tiger mother has unleashed a ferocious roar.
Fallout was swift for Yale law professor Amy Chua after she published a stark essay in The Wall Street Journal exposing her harsh words and heavy-handed methods with her two t
een daughters.
Her “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother” shot to No. 6 in the Amazon sales rankings the day it was released, likely fueled by angry buzz over a column and a headline Chua had nothing to do with: “Why Chinese Mothers are Superior.”
Adult offspring of Asian and Asian-American immigrants are weighing in on Chua’s provocative description of Eastern-style parenting: No sleepovers or playdates. Grueling rote academics. Hours of piano and violin practice. Slurs like “lazy” and “garbage,” and threats to burn stuffed animals when things don’t go Mom’s way.
Some see truth and a borderline abuser. Others see dangerous stereotype with the potential to feed China haters and xenophobes. Still others publicly thanked their moms online for similar, though less extreme, methods.
Few had read the book themselves, missing out on more facetious nuances and details on Chua’s journey to a softer approach with Sophia, 18, and Louisa, nicknamed Lulu and about to celebrate her 15th birthday with — gasp — a sleepover party.
“It’s been tough on my kids,” Chua said last week. “They want to speak out over the thing that has hurt me the most, when people say, ‘Oh, doesn’t that kind of strict parenting produce meek robots?’ My daughters could not be further from meek robots. They’re confident, funny, kind, generous, with very big personalities, and they’re always calling my bluff.”
Chua, 48 and the daughter of Filipino immigrants of Chinese descent, insists her tone in the book is self-deprecating. It’s a point she considers lost in the blogosphere, including heat from moms employing current Western philosophies she doesn’t consider better or worse, but more lax and undisciplined.
“My first reaction was, ‘Is this a joke?’ I kept waiting for the punch line,” said Frances Kai-Hwa Wang, 44, a second-generation Chinese-American and mother of four in Ann Arbor, Mich. She had parents with high expectations but none of Chua’s histrionics.
“Her methods are so crude. The humiliations and the shaming. The kids will hear that voice in their heads for the rest of their lives.”
It’s a book of extreme parenting, for sure, a memoir and not a how-to manual, Chua cautions. Her parenting choices were conscious and reflect her upbringing: No TV, no pets, no computer games, no grades under A, no parts in school plays, no complaints about not having parts in school plays, no choice of extracurricular activities, nothing less than top spots in any school class except gym and drama, no musical instruments except piano or violin.
When Lulu had trouble with a tricky piece of music, Chua denied her bathroom breaks and threatened to ship off her dollhouse to the Salvation Army, piece by piece, until she got it right, which she did with pride, Mom at her side.
Betty Ming Liu, 54, grew up in New York’s Chinatown, the oldest of two girls of Chinese immigrants with high expectations and abusive tactics.
“This is a topic so close to my heart,” she said. “It’s frightening to see that Amy Chua is still doing it.”
Talk to us
> Give us your news tips.
> Send us a letter to the editor.
> More Herald contact information.
