From the Wall Street Journal
AMY CHUA

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:

View Full Image
CAU cover Erin Patrice O’Brien for The Wall Street Journal

Amy Chua with her daughters, Louisa and Sophia, at their home in New Haven, Conn.

• 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’m using the term “Chinese mother” loosely. I know some Korean, Indian, Jamaican, Irish and Ghanaian parents who qualify too. Conversely, I know some mothers of Chinese heritage, almost always born in the West, who are not Chinese mothers, by choice or otherwise. I’m also using the term “Western parents” loosely. Western parents come in all varieties.

When it comes to parenting, the Chinese seem to produce children who display academic excellence, musical mastery and professional success – or so the stereotype goes. WSJ’s Christina Tsuei speaks to two moms raised by Chinese immigrants who share what it was like growing up and how they hope to raise their children.

All the same, even when Western parents think they’re being strict, they usually don’t come close to being Chinese mothers. For example, my Western friends who consider themselves strict make their children practice their instruments 30 minutes every day. An hour at most. For a Chinese mother, the first hour is the easy part. It’s hours two and three that get tough.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.

From Ms. Chua’s album: ‘Mean me with Lulu in hotel room… with score taped to TV!’As an adult, I once did the same thing to Sophia, calling her garbage in English when she acted extremely disrespectfully toward me. When I mentioned that I had done this at a dinner party, I was immediately ostracized. One guest named Marcy got so upset she broke down in tears and had to leave early. My friend Susan, the host, tried to rehabilitate me with the remaining guests.

The fact is that Chinese parents can do things that would seem unimaginable—even legally actionable—to Westerners. Chinese mothers can say to their daughters, “Hey fatty—lose some weight.” By contrast, Western parents have to tiptoe around the issue, talking in terms of “health” and never ever mentioning the f-word, and their kids still end up in therapy for eating disorders and negative self-image. (I also once heard a Western father toast his adult daughter by calling her “beautiful and incredibly competent.” She later told me that made her feel like garbage.)

Chinese parents can order their kids to get straight As. Western parents can only ask their kids to try their best. Chinese parents can say, “You’re lazy. All your classmates are getting ahead of you.” By contrast, Western parents have to struggle with their own conflicted feelings about achievement, and try to persuade themselves that they’re not disappointed about how their kids turned out.

I’ve thought long and hard about how Chinese parents can get away with what they do. I think there are three big differences between the Chinese and Western parental mind-sets.
[chau inside] Chua family

Newborn Amy Chua in her mother’s arms, a year after her parents arrived in the U.S.
Weigh in
div

First, I’ve noticed that Western parents are extremely anxious about their children’s self-esteem. They worry about how their children will feel if they fail at something, and they constantly try to reassure their children about how good they are notwithstanding a mediocre performance on a test or at a recital. In other words, Western parents are concerned about their children’s psyches. Chinese parents aren’t. They assume strength, not fragility, and as a result they behave very differently. For example, if a child comes home with an A-minus on a test, a Western parent will most likely praise the child. The Chinese mother will gasp in horror and ask what went wrong. If the child comes home with a B on the test, some Western parents will still praise the child. Other Western parents will sit their child down and express disapproval, but they will be careful not to make their child feel inadequate or insecure, and they will not call their child “stupid,” “worthless” or “a disgrace.” Privately, the Western parents may worry that their child does not test well or have aptitude in the subject or that there is something wrong with the curriculum and possibly the whole school. If the child’s grades do not improve, they may eventually schedule a meeting with the school principal to challenge the way the subject is being taught or to call into question the teacher’s credentials.

If a Chinese child gets a B—which would never happen—there would first be a screaming, hair-tearing explosion. The devastated Chinese mother would then get dozens, maybe hundreds of practice tests and work through them with her child for as long as it takes to get the grade up to an A. Chinese parents demand perfect grades because they believe that their child can get them. If their child doesn’t get them, the Chinese parent assumes it’s because the child didn’t work hard enough. That’s why the solution to substandard performance is always to excoriate, punish and shame the child. The Chinese parent believes that their child will be strong enough to take the shaming and to improve from it. (And when Chinese kids do excel, there is plenty of ego-inflating parental praise lavished in the privacy of the home.

Second, Chinese parents believe that their kids owe them everything. The reason for this is a little unclear, but it’s probably a combination of Confucian filial piety and the fact that the parents have sacrificed and done so much for their children. (And it’s true that Chinese mothers get in the trenches, putting in long grueling hours personally tutoring, training, interrogating and spying on their kids.) Anyway, the understanding is that Chinese children must spend their lives repaying their parents by obeying them and making them proud.

By contrast, I don’t think most Westerners have the same view of children being permanently indebted to their parents. My husband, Jed, actually has the opposite view. “Children don’t choose their parents,” he once said to me. “They don’t even choose to be born. It’s parents who foist life on their kids, so it’s the parents’ responsibility to provide for them. Kids don’t owe their parents anything. Their duty will be to their own kids.” This strikes me as a terrible deal for the Western parent.

Third, Chinese parents believe that they know what is best for their children and therefore override all of their children’s own desires and preferences. That’s why Chinese daughters can’t have boyfriends in high school and why Chinese kids can’t go to sleepaway camp. It’s also why no Chinese kid would ever dare say to their mother, “I got a part in the school play! I’m Villager Number Six. I’ll have to stay after school for rehearsal every day from 3:00 to 7:00, and I’ll also need a ride on weekends.” God help any Chinese kid who tried that one.Don’t get me wrong: It’s not that Chinese parents don’t care about their children. Just the opposite. They would give up anything for their children. It’s just an entirely different parenting model.

In China, Not All Practice Tough Love. Here’s a story in favor of coercion, Chinese-style. Lulu was about 7, still playing two instruments, and working on a piano piece called “The Little White Donkey” by the French composer Jacques Ibert. The piece is really cute—you can just imagine a little donkey ambling along a country road with its master—but it’s also incredibly difficult for young players because the two hands have to keep schizophrenically different rhythms. Lulu couldn’t do it. We worked on it nonstop for a week, drilling each of her hands separately, over and over. But whenever we tried putting the hands together, one always morphed into the other, and everything fell apart. Finally, the day before her lesson, Lulu announced in exasperation that she was giving up and stomped off.”Get back to the piano now,” I ordered. “Oh yes, I can.” Back at the piano, Lulu made me pay. She punched, thrashed and kicked. She grabbed the music score and tore it to shreds. I taped the score back together and encased it in a plastic shield so that it could never be destroyed again. Then I hauled Lulu’s dollhouse to the car and told her I’d donate it to the Salvation Army piece by piece if she didn’t have “The Little White Donkey” perfect by the next day. When Lulu said, “I thought you were going to the Salvation Army, why are you still here?” I threatened her with no lunch, no dinner, no Christmas or Hanukkah presents, no birthday parties for two, three, four years. When she still kept playing it wrong, I told her she was purposely working herself into a frenzy because she was secretly afraid she couldn’t do it. I told her to stop being lazy, cowardly, self-indulgent and pathetic.

Jed took me aside. He told me to stop insulting Lulu—which I wasn’t even doing, I was just motivating her—and that he didn’t think threatening Lulu was helpful. Also, he said, maybe Lulu really just couldn’t do the technique—perhaps she didn’t have the coordination yet—had I considered that possibility? “You just don’t believe in her,” I accused.

“That’s ridiculous,” Jed said scornfully. “Of course I do.”

“Sophia could play the piece when she was this age.” But Lulu and Sophia are different people,” Jed pointed out.

“Oh no, not this,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Everyone is special in their special own way,” I mimicked sarcastically. “Even losers are special in their own special way. Well don’t worry, you don’t have to lift a finger. I’m willing to put in as long as it takes, and I’m happy to be the one hated. And you can be the one they adore because you make them pancakes and take them to Yankees games.”

I rolled up my sleeves and went back to Lulu. I used every weapon and tactic I could think of. We worked right through dinner into the night, and I wouldn’t let Lulu get up, not for water, not even to go to the bathroom. The house became a war zone, and I lost my voice yelling, but still there seemed to be only negative progress, and even I began to have doubts. Then, out of the blue, Lulu did it. Her hands suddenly came together—her right and left hands each doing their own imperturbable thing—just like that.

Lulu realized it the same time I did. I held my breath. She tried it tentatively again. Then she played it more confidently and faster, and still the rhythm held. A moment later, she was beaming. “Mommy, look—it’s easy!” After that, she wanted to play the piece over and over and wouldn’t leave the piano. That night, she came to sleep in my bed, and we snuggled and hugged, cracking each other up. When she performed “The Little White Donkey” at a recital a few weeks later, parents came up to me and said, “What a perfect piece for Lulu—it’s so spunky and so even Jed gave me credit for that one. Western parents worry a lot about their children’s self-esteem. But as a parent, one of the worst things you can do for your child’s self-esteem is to let them give up. On the flip side, there’s nothing better for building confidence than learning you can do something you thought you couldn’t.

There are all these new books out there portraying Asian mothers as scheming, callous, overdriven people indifferent to their kids’ true interests. For their part, many Chinese secretly believe that they care more about their children and are willing to sacrifice much more for them than Westerners, who seem perfectly content to let their children turn out badly. I think it’s a misunderstanding on both sides. All decent parents want to do what’s best for their children. The Chinese just have a totally different idea of how to do that.

Western parents try to respect their children’s individuality, encouraging them to pursue their true passions, supporting their choices, and providing positive reinforcement and a nurturing environment. By contrast, the Chinese believe that the best way to protect their children is by preparing them for the future, letting them see what they’re capable of, and arming them with skills, work habits and inner confidence that no one can ever take away.

—Amy Chua is a professor at Yale Law School and author of “Day of Empire” and “World on Fire: How Exporting Free Market Democracy Breeds Ethnic Hatred and Global Instability.” This essay is excerpted from “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother” by Amy Chua, to be published Tuesday by the Penguin Press, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. Copyright © 2011 by Amy Chua.

It’s a whole new world of raising children. Used to be we raised vegetables and reared children. Nobody knows what the word “reared” means any more, and probably because the word “rear” means to erect by building and to raise upright. The meaning of rearing a child is to make him a substantial (upright) adult by means of formation (building). Formation comes from a whole set of ideas that are implemented by loving and thinking families.

Out of economic necessity, today’s busy parents don’t spend all day with their children. Children go to school early, and at least some of the formation becomes the project of hired help. Who is helping to “rear” your child? It’s an important question to ask, re-ask, and ask again. What are the implemented structures of this hired help and how will they influence your child?

Formation took a giant nosedive when the policy at early childhood centers suddenly became: “A provider never says ‘NO” to a child.” Instead we “redirect” that child to do something other than what he would ordinarily be told “no” about at home. When Johnny is crushing the skull of Sam because Sam broke the Lego structure Johnny had spent an hour building, we redirect Johnny because Johnny has become the culprit. Sam is taken away from the crushing and his tears are appeased. That sets up some really unreal and confusing struggles inside and out for both children.

In the natural un-parented world of child’s play, a child who is destructive would be firmly put into his rightful place – he would get his head crushed for a short time by Johnny for trespassing upon Johnny’s project. Sam would learn, “Oops that’s a wrong thing I did.” And then he would figure out what he should and should not do and what the punishment is when he breaks the kiddie rules.

But under the watchful an not necessarily understanding eye of early childhood hired help, the perpetrator switches places with the victim. The destruction becomes OK, the builder is removed from his project, and the lesson learned is: “I can smash anyone’s work and they can’t get me” along with “What’s the point in making anything, it’s just going to be smashed.”

Are we really watching the shop? Or have we all succumbed to the appeasement mode of the new age idea that peace and harmony are best served by ignoring what is really going on.

Children haven’t changed over the years; they are still primitive and learning about the world. They test one another as well as every adult in their path. Their sense of justice and fair play is other than the adult world. They see things unadulterated by modern ideas and modern slogans. They are and continue to be “The Lord of The Flies” boys and girls.

Civilization takes years of work to convince a child that civilization is better than anarchy and the natural state of man against man. And often it doesn’t work. That’s where criminalization comes into play. When we fail to form a child, to convince him that the natural state is lesser than civilization, we lose him to a world of “It’s only wrong if I get caught” and there will be someone to appease my mistake” and that becomes the game.

Trust of civilization does not come with “removing the builder from his work.” It comes with removing the destroyer from the play altogether and firmly telling him what he has done that is unacceptable. That means a big “no” and correction. But it also means that the provider has to have an investment in both children as human beings and be willing to teach both children what civilization demands in the way of fair play, destruction, and punishment.

But too often, we get appeasement as the name of the childcare game. We appease the moment to create a false sense of harmony and peace. We end conflicts and fights anyway we can often letting kiddie justice fail and lessons be trashed. “I don’t want to put my coat on, Mom, because I’m hot.” The teachers stands back to allow the parent to parent – there is a conflict and “we never say ‘no’ to a child.”

“It’s 14 degrees outside,” retorts the mom looking helplessly toward the provider who has worked with this child all day.

“I don’t want to,” says the child, and begins to whine and snivel.

“Leslie, put your coat on.”

The child throws herself onto the floor and kicks and screams. The mother sighs. She’s worked hard all day and now she has this additional hurdle to manage before driving home. “OK, but you have to run really fast to the car, because it’s COLD outside, she appeases.”

“I don’t want to run,” sobs the child.

“OK, Mommy will hold you.”

“No, don’t hold me.”

The child has backed her appeasing mother into a corner and is holding the evening at emotional gunpoint while the hired help stands back.

Johnny is leaving school at the same time as Leslie. Johnny’s mother is furious with him for crushing Sam’s skull. Sam stands back and sticks his tongue out at Johnny. Leslie, who is still lying on the floor says, “Johnny is a bad boy.”

This world is upside down, and the only ones who know it are the kids.

Let’s correct the day.

When Sam destroys Johnny’s building, the teacher separates the boys. That’s her job. But instead of blaming Johnny, Sam is sent sharply away to spend some time with his head down to think about what he has done, and then he is told to appologize to Johnny. That’s the only way a teaching adult is able to compliment the children’s play. The teacher helps Johnny to put the building back together which demonstrates to Johnny that his building is important. That also demonstrates to the other children what is important.

Later, when mother comes for Leslie, the teacher helps the parent who has been absent all day by saying, “Leslie, I can help you with your coat while your mother, who has worked hard all day, waits for you in the car.” If the child balks, the provider should encourage mom to do just that – leave without her – and if she does, Leslie probably won’t do that again. Lesson learned.

This is formation, and it belongs to all the adults responsible. It requires that both the parent and the provider have agreed that civilization is more important than chaos. When parents hire adults to help “rear” their child, they are not buying slogans and convenience. They are buying a partnership and that partnership should never amount to appeasement.

Good morning! This week we have a tentative snow storm. If there is snow on Monday night, and the public schools are closed, we will be closed as well. Please check with WFIE either on line or on TV. If there are several inches of snow, I can’t get to school, and neither can a majority of the faculty. In addition, getting children out in the car on ice is never a good idea.

This week is International Feast week. We invite parents to eat with us and to bring an entree from a foreign country. Good examples would be Italian, Greek, Japanese, Chinese, French, German and Indian. If you are coming, please bring the entree so that it would feed four.

This week we are going to work on Japan. We are also going to look at volcanoes and we hope to make one and execute it! The kids are going to love this.

Art on Wednesday will be an exercise in Japanese painting.

We are trying to get a snow disposal person to come to school to talk to the kids about how they clean the roads and streets.

Have a wonderful week!

One of our young teachers asked last week if I would help her with some recipes and guide her through some of the processes of cooking. I was delighted to have another convert!

In a too fast world that’s begging for instant gratification, cooking often gets traded for instants and “store boughts.” Yesterday, as I was filling out a questionnaire for Schnuck’s, the question, “How often do you use prepared food” appeared many times in different forms. I answered “Nearly never, never, never again, and lastly, practically never!” Prepared means: processed, expensive, possibly contaminated, and not my ingredients. And therein lies the difference between cooking and place and press tiles. It’s food of a sort, but not the best food.

So helping someone to understand that making a spaghetti dinner does not entail picking out a sauce, is the first step. The other thing to remember is that if you have canned tomato sauce, canned tomatoes, spices, and pasta and cheese, you don’t need to go to the store to make a dozen different kinds of meals quickly and tastefully.

Quick weekly shopping list to include several “red sauce” meals: ground beef, ground pork, sausage, chicken, 3 cans tomato sauce, 3 cans diced tomatoes, mozzarella cheese, Parmesan cheese, cottage cheese, gnocchi, whole grain pasta of choice, and pasta sheets for lasagna, 2 onions, 2 green peppers, and some mushrooms of choice.

Here are some of the meals you can make with this shopping list:

1. Lasagna
2. Spaghetti with beef sauce
3. Pork meatballs and gnocchi
4. Pizza
5. Chicken caccatore
6. Meatballs and spaghetti
7. Stuffed shells and meat sauce
8. Pork patties, pasta and sauce
9. Soup
10. Chicken and gnocchi

And the ease of prep? It should take no more than 30 minutes to make any of these meals.

Making a red sauce is easy. You cook your veggies and your spices in olive oil, and then add the canned tomato sauce and diced tomatoes and then spice to taste. Da, da! Perhaps 10 minutes if you take your time.

Meat? That depends on what you are cooking. Chicken caccatore? Cut chicken to desired pieces and slide into bubbling sauce.

Gnocchi? That’s a potato starch. Boil gnocchi for about a minute and it’s ready to slide into sauce or have sauce poured over it.

When making lasagna, mix cottage or other drippy cheese with eggs and Parmesan cheese. Place your pasta sheets in the bottom of your baking dish. Add a little sauce, the cottage mix, another layer of pasta sheets, your sauce, and your shredded mozzarella. Bake 25 minutes.

Soup? Dilute sauce with chicken or beef stock made from bouillon. Add baked or quickly stir fried meat.

See how simple? And the name of the game is choice. Today I really feel like lasagna, and tomorrow pizza. It doesn’t take a lot of effort to always buy 2-3 cans of tomato sauce and diced tomatoes and to keep cheese on hand. Buy meat that’s on sale and looks great!

Once you’ve practiced your sauce, you can be creative and inventive. Bon appetite!

I love this. Happy New Year!

Good morning. Should have done this yesterday, but like so many other things I forgot…actually I had to leave for school early because Amy was out and I needed to do her stuff too. But I got a wonderful surprise. Nita came in early — 6:15 — and she drove all the way from Owensboro to do that for me. I just love our teachers.

We are jumping right into the new year with a lot of school work and a lot of learning. Our regular classes are honing our reading, writing and arithmetic skills and that means making sure our children are where they are supposed to be for the best learning. Because we group by desire and ability, we don’t pay a lot of attention to age or age cut offs. If a child is ready, willing, and desiring to learn, we teach him. We have several children moving up into new groups. And this is not a once a year thing. If your child is ready any time of the year, UPPPPPPPPP he goes!

We will be tackling the Polar Regions as a kickoff for geography. This is a great way to get acquainted with the earth. Did you know that the South Pole is a continent and actually has dirt under all that ice? Did you know that the continent actually increases its size in the winter time because of freezing oceans?

We will also start our film festival this week with National Velvet. It’s the old version starring Elizabeth Taylor as a child.

Next week we will be having the International Feast. A letter will be sent home about this. It is optional and always around lunch time.

Have a great week!