Tiger Mom or Dolphin Mom?

Are you a Tiger Mom? I think I am more of a Dolphin Mom but I’ll get to that later. Recently the topic of Chinese parenting has been a hot one in the media and swirling around the internets. The essay called “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother” by Amy Chua excerpted here in the Wall Street Journal, is what started it all. Her point is clear; rigid, dictatorial parenting produces excellence and leads to success. If you don’t push your children to greatness by demanding the best – always – then they will never achieve it.

Chua illustrates just how hard a Chinese mother is willing to push and how far she is willing to go when describing an epic battle of wills with her young daughter over learning to play a piece of music. Chua describes how she yelled to the point of hoarseness, denied her daughter water, and even refused trips to the bathroom. She proudly describes her home at this time as a “war zone”.

I read this article forcing myself to keep an open mind. I wanted to listen to what Chua said and try and really hear it. I, as you can likely tell from my picture, am not Chinese. In fact, my family has been in Canada since the late 1600’s (yes, it is possible). I grew up in a typical home similar to what Chua is trying to describe in her essay when she refers to a “Western” family.

You can see that having an open mind while reading this piece is critical to my getting anything out of it. And I did think she had something valuable to say. So, what did I think of Chua’s perspective? I spent hours after reading it thinking and analyzing. Chua had some amazingly good points. Her kids and those raised in families like hers were usually hugely successful and driven. Like Chua herself who is a Professor at Yale University and a respected author. And I don’t deny that accomplishing greatness and pushing oneself can be extremely satisfying.

I did take issue with her simple analysis of “Western” parents. She describes Western parents in a way that makes them appear weak and one-dimensional. She believes that Chinese parents, unlike Western parents, “assume strength, not fragility, and as a result they behave very differently.” In other words, we Western parents assume are children are fragile so we worry about them and don’t push them too hard.

At this point I had to take a step back. I was busy thinking about all the crazy hockey (insert your sport here) parents I have seen and known and wondered whether Chua had ever known a Western parent with a child in competitive sports? I also couldn’t help but think that she had completely missed the point about why Western parents are concerned about their children’s emotional well-being. How this is not out of weakness but because we look at the whole child and not just one aspect. But I stepped back in because I promised myself I would get through this with an open mind.

I read as Chua described discipline including no TV, no sleepovers, and no playdates. I wondered how Chinese adults raised this way socialize? How do they navigate relationships and friendships? How do they work in a team environment or deal with conflict? Then Chua extols the virtues of calling your child “garbage” or “fat” as a way to motivate them to change. She describes punishments for low grades and “ego-inflating parental praise lavished in the privacy of the home” if a child does well.

And all of this I read and I took in and I even saw her point. I saw that, yes, if you parent like this you are likely to produce an adult who excels in many areas. On the outside, in all of the ways judged by others, that child will be deemed “successful”.

But the whole time I read this piece and the whole time I thought about it afterward all I could feel was sadness. I felt this overwhelming sympathy for Chua. I wondered whether she ever had fun. Whether she has ever laughed until her belly hurt or experienced the thrill of doing something reckless. I wonder if she ever looks back with fondness at her childhood or looks forward to the joys of life.

Sure, she has achieved great “success” and obviously worked ridiculously hard to get it but to what end? A childhood friend of mine died at 26. My cousin died a young mom at 31. My mom died too soon at 67. I am so glad for them that they found joy and not just “success” during their short lives.

What I came away with after reading Chua’s piece is even more confidence in how I parent my kids, “Western” style (it even sounds all renegade, doesn’t it?). My kids are HAPPY. They love life. They feel joy. They compete and revel in their successes and learn from their failures. They work hard but not so hard that they can’t nurture friendships and try new things and find their own unique and wonderful place in the world.

My children are a gift to this world because of who they are as individuals, not because of some external force dictating to them. My husband and I value them for who they are not who we want them to be. I want them to feel a part of the world around them, feel responsible and accountable all while “finding joy every day”. 

This is why I have decided that I am not a Tiger Mom, but a Dolphin Mom. Dolphins are known as social and friendly and giving. In fact, Dolphins have been documented as not only helping other dolphins but helping other species, including humans. Plus, Dolphin Moms depend on a strong social network of mom friends to raise their young and that’s a lot like me.

I was raised this way by parents who adored me. Who knew I could conquer the world if I wanted to but let me find my own passion and my own happiness. And my professional successes have been great but, what truly makes it all worthwhile is the pure joy I get from living. And it is the LIVING that, in my opinion, is missing from Chua’s Tiger Mom parenting. 

I want my kids to LIVE! And I just can’t imagine Chua or one of her kids doing, let alone with abandon, some of these things: