De-clawed

To be fair, I should disclose that I haven’t read Amy Chua’s memoir Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother.  But since she’s all over the media, it’s nearly impossible not to have some knowledge about her experience being raised by, and then raising her children by what she calls the “Chinese method”—a method that is considered “strict” at best and “abusive” at worst. 

            I respect Chua’s passion for raising her kids exactly how she sees fit, and I do believe that love for her kids is behind all her decisions.  She’s gotten a great end result – two daughters who are academically, athletically, and artistically leaders of the pack, and who are destined to be very successful.  For some people out there, that end result might just be tempting enough to make them consider taking notes while reading her book.  I know that since my children are very young, my parenting style may still be somewhat malleable – subject to the latest research, or at least the latest chatter at mom hot spots.  However, I also know that I am and will remain unwavering in my resolve to encourage my children to reach their highest potential with methods that do not rely on shame as a motivator.  You could call me a Tiger Mom, minus teeth and claws.

            I do agree with the philosophy behind the method – basically, that kids shouldn’t be allowed to take the easy way out all the time, and that they often need heavy encouragement (maybe even pushing) in order for them to find their greatest potential.  I believe that kids should be held to high standards.  They should be allowed, actually expected, to feel disappointment, discomfort, embarrassment, frustration – especially when those feelings are a direct result of behavior in which they chose to engage.  I believe that we should praise kids less for being “smart” or “talented” and more for “working hard” and “persevering.”  I agree that it isn’t always right to unabashedly applaud a child’s work if it is the result of poor effort and a lackadaisical attitude.   But some of the incidents in Chua’s book, which she’s either employed or been subjected to, make me wonder if this way of parenting toes the line a little too closely between pushing kids to be their best, and pushing them completely away from their parents due to debilitating pressure to perform and extreme fear of rejection.    

            If my girls are Nobel Prize winners, but are afraid to share with me their failures as well as their successes, their shitty moments as well as their shining moments, then I have failed as a mom.  I think it’s far better to join the ranks of mediocrity and be able to bask in the glow of unconditional acceptance, than to be at the summit of achievement and live with constant worry that there will be no one to love you if it all comes crashing down.