In Fear of "Chinese Parenting"

Kudos to David Brooks for his excellent New York Times piece this week in response to Amy Chua’s essay in the Wall Street Journal.  The one written in anticipation of the publication of her new book, “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother." As you probably know by now the book is part memoir, part guide to the virtues of so-called “Chinese parenting.” And yes, the article in the Wall Street Journal is called, Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior.

Brooks argues that in part, the anger towards Chua is based on our collective fear of America’s decline – this time at the hands of the Chinese. The emphasis is mine. And I agree with him wholeheartedly.

The furious denunciations began flooding my in-box a week ago. Chua plays into America’s fear of national decline. Here’s a Chinese parent working really hard (and, by the way, there are a billion more of her) and her kids are going to crush ours. Furthermore (and this Chua doesn’t appreciate), she is not really rebelling against American-style parenting; she is the logical extension of the prevailing elite practices. She does everything over-pressuring upper-middle-class parents are doing. She’s just hard core.

He then goes on to label her a “wimp” because she does not have the cognitive where-with-all to negotiate the activities she so proudly disallows her children from participating in, including sleepovers with friends.

Practicing a piece of music for four hours requires focused attention, but it is nowhere near as cognitively demanding as a sleepover with 14-year-old girls. Managing status rivalries, negotiating group dynamics, understanding social norms, navigating the distinction between self and group — these and other social tests impose cognitive demands that blow away any intense tutoring session or a class at Yale.

As parents I imagine we all shield ourselves from taking the lead on activities involving our children, when we fear our abilities to negotiate particular social situations will be tested.  But the best part of me always tries to set the discomfort aside, do what is best for the children in the moment, and remember that whatever it is I am learning from the particular encounter -- the children are learning too.

On "Chinese Parenting"

Seems like everyone was writing about Amy Chua this week. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. I dare you to go ahead and google her. You’ll be overwhelmed.

Her latest book, “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother” was published this week. Roughly speaking, it is part memoir and part how-to-guide for those interested in employing so-called, Chinese methods to raise Western children. She is a Professor of Law at Yale Law School, holding two degrees from Harvard. She is the author of two books on globalization and the law.

But it was this essay in the Wall Street Journal that started the controversy – Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior. And yes, the title says it all.  In it, there is something for everyone.

For those of you who like facts and figures, there is this:

Despite our squeamishness about cultural stereotypes, there are tons of studies out there showing marked and quantifiable differences between Chinese and Westerners when it comes to parenting. In one study of 50 Western American mothers and 48 Chinese immigrant mothers, almost 70% of the Western mothers said either that "stressing academic success is not good for children" or that "parents need to foster the idea that learning is fun." By contrast, roughly 0% of the Chinese mothers felt the same way. Instead, the vast majority of the Chinese mothers said that they believe their children can be "the best" students, that "academic achievement reflects successful parenting," and that if children did not excel at school then there was "a problem" and parents "were not doing their job." Other studies indicate that compared to Western parents, Chinese parents spend approximately 10 times as long every day drilling academic activities with their children. By contrast, Western kids are more likely to participate in sports teams.

For the arm-chair anthropologist, this:

What Chinese parents understand is that nothing is fun until you're good at it. To get good at anything you have to work, and children on their own never want to work, which is why it is crucial to override their preferences. This often requires fortitude on the part of the parents because the child will resist; things are always hardest at the beginning, which is where Western parents tend to give up. But if done properly, the Chinese strategy produces a virtuous circle. Tenacious practice, practice, practice is crucial for excellence; rote repetition is underrated in America. Once a child starts to excel at something—whether it's math, piano, pitching or ballet—he or she gets praise, admiration and satisfaction. This builds confidence and makes the once not-fun activity fun. This in turn makes it easier for the parent to get the child to work even more.

And for the voyeurs among us, this:

A lot of people wonder how Chinese parents raise such stereotypically successful kids. They wonder what these parents do to produce so many math whizzes and music prodigies, what it's like inside the family, and whether they could do it too. Well, I can tell them, because I've done it. Here are some things my daughters, Sophia and Louisa, were never allowed to do:

• attend a sleepover
• have a playdate
• be in a school play
• complain about not being in a school play
• watch TV or play computer games
• choose their own extracurricular activities
• get any grade less than an A
• not be the No. 1 student in every subject except gym and drama
• play any instrument other than the piano or violin
• not play the piano or violin.

I actually have a great interest in this topic. I worked for a number of years in a management-level position for Head Start in San Francisco’s Chinatown. For those of you not in the know, Head Start is a federally-funded pre-school program for low-income children and their families. In addition to early education services, programs are mandated to provide health, social services and parent involvement components as well.