Weighing in on the Tiger Mother

"I have the opposite problem with Chua. I believe she’s coddling her children. She’s protecting them from the most intellectually demanding activities because she doesn’t understand what’s cognitively difficult and what isn’t." - David Brooks, NY Times Opinion January 17, 2011 (http://www.nytimes.com/2011/01/18/opinion/18brooks.html)

David Brooks' editorial was a concerto to my ears after the din of discordant arguments surrounding Amy Chua's new book, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, and titillating excerpt of the same in the Wall Street Journal.. The topic is a lightning rod for parental controversy: are we too easy on our children or is she too tough? Should we demand excellence from our children, force them to practice and do homework, and prioritize achievements over social activities like sleepovers and playdates? The article, and Chua's stories about her demands on her children (and their resultant successes) have fanned the ever-hot flames of parenting guilt or superiority.

Mr. Brooks argues that if Chua wants her children to succeed at the most difficult and intricate challenges in life she would be emphasizing exactly those activities that she depreciates in her household. For example: "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." I have to agree. From my perspective it is much easier to plug away in solitude at a difficult assignment than it is to solve problems as a group, or negotiate difficult social status ladders. For children, especially, learning how to interact is critical for future success - and I would argue - happiness. The unstructured segments of the school day, otherwise known as lunch and recess, can be far more treacherous than the calm sanctums of math class or reading.

If human happiness is based on relationships with others and not one-off (or even repeated) achievements, then Chua is putting the em-phas-is on the wrong syl - lab -le. I am sure it is wonderful to play the piano at Carnegie Hall and that the achievement and the memories of that experience will create a warm glow in both child and parents for a long time to come. In my experience, though, one triumph usually leads to expectations, even the requirement, of others. How does one improve upon a musical solo at Carnegie Hall? If connections with other people, humility and gratitude are keys to happiness, it seems to me that achieving individual attention on such a prestigious stage might actually become an obstacle later in life. Not necessarily a problem I grant you, but neither is it a slam dunk for success.

I have never performed a musical solo on any big stage, but I have attended an Ivy League school, and attained a little athletic success at a young age. These achievements (performed for my internal tiger and not for my parents), did not provide me with the tools I needed to succeed in my relationships or to look for my vocation in life (although I learned a lot about what I did not want in my life after living through those experiences). While reading about Chua and her daughters I was most impressed with her youngest daughter, who pushes for what she wants to do (tennis) and emphasizes playdates and sleepovers as favored activities. She seems to have a good head on her shoulders and I eagerly await the release of her book.