老大把这篇文章的联接email我， 还告诉我 "It's so true."
还没有来得及和我家老大老二讨论， "It's so true"是褒义还是贬义。 自己读了一遍一对照， 原来自己不是这样的"中国妈妈"嘛。
原文在这:
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704111504576059713528698754.html
Why Chinese Mothers Are
Can a regimen of no playdates, no TV, no computer games and hours of music practice create happy kids? And what happens when they fight back?
By 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:
• 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.
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.
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.
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
Chinese parents can get away with things that Western parents can't. Once when I was young—maybe more than once—when I was extremely disrespectful to my mother, my father angrily called me "garbage" in our native Hokkien dialect. It worked really well. I felt terrible and deeply ashamed of what I had done. But it didn't damage my self-esteem or anything like that. I knew exactly how highly he thought of me. I didn't actually think I was worthless or feel like a piece of garbage.
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.
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.
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.
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 her."
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
Some Readers’ Comments:
Yes, the Chinese are much better parents and much more successful people. That explains why the Chinese have gone to the moon, invented Calculus, developed democracy, airplanes, organ transplantation, the internal combustion engine, and all of those complex musical instruments Amy Chua's kids play. Oh, wait, no, that was the people of the West. I'm pretty sure we invented sarcasm too.
I have several Chinese collegues who have wasted years of their lives in careers they absolutely hate in order to satisfy their parents' egos. Eventually, some snap.
This sort of despotism smothers creativity, which explains why the Chinese, gvien the age and size of their civilization, have actually -not- accomplished a great deal. The classical Greeks accomplished much more in 500 years than the Chinese have in 3500 years.
· The problem about an article of this nature is that it's extremely misleading. The title is misleading because it conveys the wrong impression that "Chinese mothers" as a group is superior. The contents are misleading because they contain truths as well as falsehood about Chinese parenting. What's worse, the article presents Chinese parenting and Western presenting as an either or option. Either the Chinese parenting method is superior or the Western parenting method is superior, when the reality is that there are both good and bad points in Chinese parenting, and the same can be said about Western parenting. So instead of being antithesis, the two parenting methods can in fact be complimentary. All we need to do is to discard our biases and prejudices, and adopt the best practices from both cultures.
As a Chinese parent, the following are what I know are true of Chinese parenting in general:
1. Chinese parents in general put a lot of emphasis on education and tend to push their children very hard in the area of education. There is a Chinese saying that all parents would want their son to be a dragon and their daughter to be a phoenix. The idea is that all parents want their children to be successful. In ancient Chinese culture, a government official enjoyed the highest social status because of Confucian ideals. Since one could only become a government official by excelling in imperial examination, education naturally assumes a central role in society. A man who excelled in imperial examination and was appointed to government official position would be said to have brought glory and honour to his ancestors. Given that this has been the emphasis in society for thousands of years, the emphasis of the Chinese parents on their children's education should come as no surprise.
2. Chinese parenting method generally places less emphasis on the children's self-esteem as the write mentions. The parenting method generally results in children who tend to work harder, do better in examinations, are more respectful of authority, but are less self-confident, less articulate, less creative.
I think it's unfair to brush aside the Chinese parenting method completely, in the same way that it would be equally unfair to brush aside the Western parenting method. I was brought up in a traditional Chinese way by my stern father, and way before I became I parent, I already made up my mind that I would never do to my children in the future certain things that my father did to me. In those areas, I have no doubt that Western parenting method is superior. In other areas, however, I'm still sticking to the traditional Chinese way.
- Mmmmmkay Now I'm not Chinese, I'm American. But my American Irish and Jewish parents raised me similiarly. My upbringing was not as regimented but more a combination of neglect and abusive parenting aimed at producing a child that my parents could show off. Just like this woman. She doesn't want happy children, she wants kids she can show off. I have childhood memories of being beaten by my mother for reasons as stupid as getting a "C" on a math test and being pushed off the piano bench by my father for not playing a scale correctly. At around the age of 7, when I started to do poorly in school, physical affection was withheld. When I dared show any backlash, I was called "little b**ch" or "stupid girl." SOUND FAMILIAR, CHUA? I am referring to your seeming approval of a Chinese parent calling their daughter "Garbage" when she "disrespected" them. Hm, wonder why she disrespected them? Maybe it's because they show her no love, or only show love when she performs to their twisted standards. Even writing this makes me shake with anger. As a result of my parents' backward parenting style, I have emotional problems, big time.. I also have this thing where I subconsciously compete with everyone to show how great I am, because there's a constant feeling of inferiority that's been drilled into my head by my beloved parents. I catch myself doing it and am working hard to stop it, but it doesn't come easy. I have a love/hate relationship with my parents, if you will. Having fantasies of seriously maiming/killing your parents IS NOT NORMAL, but is a consequence of such parenting methods on a child. That's what happens when you ignore the emotional needs of a child. Killing is an act of emotional desperation.
Idea: maybe we as humans shouldn't be aiming to dominate one another! Maybe, just maybe, the world would be a better place if we weren't pissing on each other all the time. Maybe life would be easier for all of us if we worked to build a community based on love and respect and inclusion, not domination, exclusivity, and competition. We all need to belong. Ever notice that? Not all of us feel the need to be on top, however. FUNNY. - As a Filipina who raised five kids in the US (and who also married a White man, a USAF officer who spent much time away from home but was still a wonderful father, and who sadly passed away a few years back), I must say that I was not nearly as strict as the Chinese stereotype depicted herein, but I can say that many of the concepts presented are true enough. In particular, the over-emphasis on "self-esteem" which has led the US education system into the toilet academically, and the notion that I owe my kids and not the other way around. Sure, they didn't "choose to be born" but neither did I and life is tough so they had better deal with it. By insisting that schoolwork came first, before all other pursuits, I had some problems at first but when they realized I wasn't budging then things took care of themselves.
I believe that children will always probe their parents to see what the limits are in their lives. When clear signals are given, it makes for a more harmonious existence. No, I didn't push anyone to play music - that was considered a reward if the academics were taken care of. So my five turned out rather well, and have thus given me nine grandchildren, who are being raised in much the same way.
Something the "Western" parents often don't seem to grasp is that "self-esteem" comes about only with achievement - I didn't hand out any false praise, because I knew that the professional world expects the job done right with no excuses (unless you join a union ...) so who would I have been helping? If we look at the way earlier generations of Americans raised their kids, the Asian model doesn't seem so eccentric - life was much tougher 100 years ago, but somehow they survived and built the nation that would win WWII. My Filipino forebears - who were ultimately freed from Japanese tyranny in the process - always imbued me with a sense of gratitude for the efforts of the USA. I came here determined to become a loyal US citizen and I think I have succeeded. I also have a deep sense of gratitude that I was able to come here, start a business, raise a family, and become successful on my own terms - all because of the opportunities that were available to me here. This is why I am politically very conservative. I do not want to see the system that worked so well for me be destroyed by deceitful and narcissistic opportunists who presume to know better than "average" people how to run their lives.
- Ugh, she's a Yale professor?
I'm Chinese-American, raised by immigrant Chinese parents. Yeah, I play the violin, I went to an ivy league school, I got a PhD. I have to credit my parents for driving me to lessons, but they certainly did not crack the whip. And I got to sleepover at friends'. They did not crack the whip, but they also discouraged any dreams that were outside the go-to-college-and-get-a-top-job mold, because they couldn't imagine otherwise. I certainly don't appreciate having had my inner desires suppressed, and now that I'm old, I'm finally doing what I want to do, which is not related to the PhD.
Why doesn't Amy Chua just state the academic truth, that both Western and Chinese parenting models have strengths and weaknesses? The Western model produces some slackers but also innovators, because they are free to pursue what turns them on. The Chinese model produces model citizens who are good workers, and maybe they'll be the head of an engineering firm and play 18th century music at Carnegie Hall, but it will produce few real innovators and definitely no leaders in popular culture. I sat recently on a scientific grants panel, and I was chagrined to observe that the proposals by Chinese scientists were dreary, laborious, and unimaginative, whereas the innovative, imaginative proposals were by Americans. The main danger of the Western model is that those kids who are not necessarily bright or self-motivated will fall by the wayside, becoming illiterate -- technically, culturally -- and unable to be either good workers or leaders or responsible voters. Only the very gifted kids will succeed. The Chinese model helps those kids who really need help -- and at the same time it hinders those kids who have their own mind.
A recent New Yorker article listed several honorary doctorate recipients at college commencement ceremonies: there were a lot of college dropouts who had done their own thing outside the mold, excelling in the arts, literature. Then, of course, there are those famous college dropouts, Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, and Mark Zuckerberg. Their parents let them do what they wanted to do. These are the gifted kids whom the Chinese model would have suppressed.
Let's propose a hybrid of the Chinese and Western models: parents should teach children the value of hard work and help them on their homework, but they should also allow the child to experiment and find out his/her own interests -- and work hard on that. And most definitely, they should always make sure that the child is socially well-integrated, which involves sleepovers, getting to choose their own clothes and music, etc. Half of success is not academic but also social.
· Ms. Chua's article made me physically ill. While I understand she wrote it as a satire, her attempted humor just fell completely flat with me because I know the consequences of her parenting style.
I was raised like Ms. Chua as many of my Chinese-American friends were, and if you define success as having a high paying job and a nice house, I suppose we are successful. We also all have a crazy love hate relationships with our mothers that we play out in our romantic relationships. Some of my friends have drinking problems, others take drugs or beat their kids. Many of us swear we will never raise our children the way our mothers raised us. I even went so far as to take a 7 month nonviolent (both physically and mentally, i.e. no calling your kid "garbage") parenting course to make sure I wouldn't repeat this cycle of abuse with my kids even though I don't have any yet. During this course, we spent a month looking at how we were parented, and I cried that entire month remembering all the horrible things my mother would say to me to "motivate" me as a kid. I remember the times I finally did something my mother thought was right, we would cuddle, and I was thrilled that my mother finally seemed to love me.
I also realized that a lot of what I do in my life, I'm not sure I even enjoy, but I do it because I know my mother would approve. Only in my late 30's did I finally become happy with who I am because I stopped caring about my mother's opinions and because I had to yell, "Shut up!" when that little voice in my head, who sounds so much like my mother, would criticize me and my choices endlessly.
Despite this, I do love my mother. I understand that she cared about me and didn't know a better way to parent me because her mother parented her the same way. I know it would hurt her feelings (as it would mine if my child felt this way about me) to know that when she asks me what I'm doing with my life, I lie to her because I know she'd get upset and start criticizing me; that when she asks how I am, I immediately become suspicious wondering what her motive is since I've been manipulated by her so often in the past for "my own good"; that when I know I have to spend a lot of time with her, I break out in a full body rash, which my doctor says is stressed induced; that when I have my kids, I will keep them from spending a lot of time with grandma for the sake of their emotional growth.
So I maintain a superficial, but civil relationship with her and joke with my friends that we need to start Chinese mother group therapy sessions. There are studies now that show supportive and compassionate (not permissive) parenting produces independent, caring and empathic children and adults. Isn't that the definition of success for which we should be aiming?
