Not Tiger, not Western--Just Mom

2-1-11






When I first read the Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, I was outraged. I am not even sure that this begins to cover how annoyed I was. This woman talked of how her daughters were not allowed play dates with other kids and how they sometimes spent 6 plus hours practicing the violin. This wasn’t nearly as offensive as the part where she called her daughter ‘garbage’. Oh, and she also scolded her daughter for a birthday card that she was presented with, insisting as a mother that she deserved better.



Her reasons ranged from her own upbringing, which was from parents who had very little and taught their kids survival, to wanting her kids to succeed and have a good work ethic. I am all for making sure my kids bust their asses. I am all for making sure they know things will not be handed to them on a silver platter. But is this the way to achieve this?



My disgust stayed with me for a few days. I posted the article, I talked poor Ken’s ear off about it, and just wanted to find this woman and kick her. Look, lady, your kids are not commodities. They hopefully were made with love. You don’t need to treat them like a stock portfolio. I am shocked she didn’t trade her youngest who apparently gave her a lot more trouble than her submissive first born.



I was at my parents’ house and I noted the Time magazine on their table with the headline title of ‘The Truth About Tiger Moms”. I laughed at this and asked my mother if she was familiar with this broad. My mom looked confused, and proceeded to tell me that she wasn’t as awful as the masses were making her out to be. I was dumbstruck at her assessment, and brought up the horrid things this woman said to her daughter. My mom agreed these were bad, but that studies show, many of the other things she did are not as bad, and did help test scores.



My feeling was, but at what price? Sure, my kid aced his test, but he hates me and himself at the same time. This didn’t seem like a win win so much as a win lose lose. Anyway you look at it; the results were giving up one good thing for a different good thing. What is more important?



At my mom’s urging, she told me to read the article. I gladly took the magazine. I had it my car for a couple of days before I opened it up to the page this morning.



I still found that this woman sucked.



That being said, I could see what my mom was talking about in terms of some of the study exercises. On Friday, I had sat down with Bobby’s teacher, and we discussed ways to improve his vocabulary. She knew he had it in him, as did I. He just lacked focus. So since 3 o’clock on Friday afternoon to 7 pm on Sunday evening, we worked hard on drilling Bobby with information. We quizzed him on the words. We quizzed him on the numbers. I was concerned that he would whine and pout when asking him to do it over and over, but shockingly, he seemed to sense the urgency in these lessons. He knew he needed to memorize them, and he volunteered to test several times through the weekend.



Our diligence and perseverance paid off. Bobby walked out of class yesterday with a proud strut. He announced to me that he got to color another line on his rainbow. Mrs. Fasheh cheered and said to me, “He did it!” There were smiles and congrats all around. My son had achieved something with hard work and persistence.



I made a point of telling him that he worked hard. I didn’t praise him on the accomplishment so much as praising him on studying and keeping on it. Sure, the test that he passed was cool, but I wanted to make sure he knew that by buckling down, and really taking the time to remember those words, he did well.



Just because he did well didn’t mean I let up, though. We got home, and he was promptly set to work on his homework. I didn’t let him slack. If he wrote the letters like crap, I would erase them. I sometimes even erased the good ones, too, if he got particularly sloppy on a few after it. His homework called for writing the letter ‘o’ maybe 20 times. I made this kid write the letter 50 times.



As I read the article this morning, I noted that perhaps I was doing the same thing to Bobby as this woman was doing with her daughter. I was demanding excellence. I was not settling for an ‘O” that looked like it had been deflated. I didn’t allow him to color only part of the octopus. I wanted him to really put in the effort, especially since I knew this was stuff he could do, so being lazy wasn’t an option.



This being said, I didn’t yell. I never got really angry at him. I would tease. I would be stern, but at the same time, we had fun. I sang songs while he wrote. This cracked him up. I sat and colored pictures of animals from a coloring book while he worked, all the while chatting with him about things. Yes, sometimes I needed to get him back on task with a stern warning, but when all of it was done, he wasn’t angry at me, he wasn’t sad. When he did write a really good ‘O’, he showed it off because he was proud of his work, and I allowed this because I was glad to see him enjoying himself.



So perhaps it isn’t so much that Tiger Moms are better than us lowly Western Moms. It is that if you use a blend of techniques, knowing your audience, you can produce a child that not only strives for excellence, but laughs in spite of failure. Sure, we as a nation are not doing as well academically as some other countries, but we still are a nation of amazing people. Discipline and SAT scores are not the only things that make us great.



Bobby is smart. He is funny. He loves me unconditionally. He knows I don’t want him slacking, yet he also knows that there is a time and a place to be able to relax and play. He knows he has consequences for when he throws a tantrum. He also knows that he doesn’t always get a treat when he does something good. He is learning that life is not fair.



Trust me when I say there are still many grownups that have not picked up on this. Guilty as charged.