Amy Chua’s new book, “Battle Hymn of a Tiger Mother” has created an impressive flurry of opinion on parenting. This memoir, written by a Chinese-American mother who rejects “The Western Style of Parenting” in favor of a more stringent method consistent with her traditional Chinese upbringing, has ignited praise, criticism and even indignation. It has been a hot topic of discussion in the media, and among many of the mothers who bring their children to my practice. Thus, it was with a considerable amount of curiosity that I began my read of “Tiger Mother.”
Pediatricians generally try to take care of families and offer parenting advice in the context of cultural traditions. There is no one cookie-cutter “right way” to parent, and experience with my patients and my own children over the years has taught me that even within the same family, what works for one child doesn’t always work for the sibling. Chua’s memoir reflects this.
As a pediatrician and as a mom, I found several aspects of “Tiger Mother” to be particularly intriguing. First, Chua is brutally honest in her description of her own actions. This is a brave thing to do. Though she is often unapologetic, you get the feeling that Chua realizes that in retrospect some of what she said and did with her daughters was pretty harsh. But she tells you anyway, in order to tell her story. It’s also clear that not only does she not care whether her kids protest against her rules, she is also not interested in winning the approval of other parents. Whether or not I agree with the expectations she sets out for her children is not the issue, but I like the fact that she doesn’t submit to peer pressure. This is a helpful quality when you are parenting, because there are a lot of gray areas when it comes to the specifics of what one does and does not allow, and sometimes it can be hard to listen to your gut when other parents are permitting their kids to do things that you may not think are the right choices for your own children.
Second, Chua repeatedly discusses the hard work of parenting. There is nothing truer than this. The job of parenting is 24/7 and often exhausting. No matter what your parenting style, there is no easy way to raise a child. You will make mistakes and you need to keep working hard at it. It takes time, in fact most of your time, and no one else is going to do it for you. It’s all on you. There are no easy, quick fixes. There is no magic pill. Chua eloquently drives this point home. In my daily dealings with families, I think that sometimes parents want the easy, quick answer, the magic solution to their babies’ sleep problems, or their older kids’ behavioral, school or other problems.
The truth is, all kids (and adults for that matter) have problems at some point in their lives, and parenting is one long problem-solving journey. Sometimes we need to figure it out for ourselves; and sometimes we need guidance, but then we need to go home and do the hard work of limit-setting and being clear and consistent with the expectations we set for our children. No matter what you think of the expectations Chua sets for her children, if she is nothing else, she is clear and consistent. And when there is a problem, she tries to figure it out for herself. A poignant example of this is her description of her reaction when her younger daughter, who at thirteen decides to cut her own hair in an asymmetric, bizarre style when Chua refuses to bring her for a haircut as a consequence for some transgression. Though she is clearly alarmed by her daughter’s behavior, she doesn’t immediately call her pediatrician or the psychiatrist; she doesn’t make her go to therapy or ask to have her put on Prozac. Instead, she takes a deep breath and takes her to the hairdresser to fix the haircut. Obviously, if her daughter had cut herself instead of her hair, I would hope that there would have been a different response, but given the exponential increase in children and adolescents on stimulants and antidepressants and in therapy these days, one has to wonder what role parenting style plays here. There is no magic pill. It is hard work.
Finally, Chua’s memoir is a testimony to the importance of being able to change as a parent. When what you are doing isn’t working, sometimes you have to take a different course. You have to change yourself in order to do a better job. When the methods that have worked for Chua’s more temperamentally compliant older daughter backfire with her younger, more rebellious child, after a series of humbling episodes of outburst, sometimes in public, Chua relents and allows her to give up the violin, the focus of so many of their battles. Interestingly, her daughter later decides on her own that she still wants to play this instrument, though not at her previous intense level. Chua’s description of “how a thirteen year-old brought me to my knees” is her own journey of transformation, aided by her daughters, her husband and her own mother (who had raised her “The Chinese Way”), into a gentler version of herself.
How we parent is shaped by a variety of factors, including our own temperament, our cultural roots and our other life experiences. But there are a few universal ground rules. Chua’s memoir drives home the fact that in parenting, it is important to be honest with yourself and your kids; that it is incredibly hard work; and that sometimes you need to be flexible and willing to change. Whether or not you agree with “The Chinese Way” or “The Western Way,” Chua’s illuminates a few truths for all of us.