"Asian" vs. Western Parenting

Here is an article titled Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior, an excerpt from a book by Amy Chua, a Yale law professor: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704111504576059713528698754.html#articleTabs%3Darticle
You might also want to read the comments; there are some very interesting points and anecdotes.

I think this will be a hot topic of discussion since we can all relate to it either through personal experiences or those of friends/classmates. Most of us have used the term "Asian parents" to describe the very type of parent the author epitomizes, but, despite being a Chinese daughter myself and a student in "Arcasia", even I found this article to be a tad surprising as to how extreme she is.

• Which do you believe is more effective in raising "successful" children: "Asian" or Western parenting? To what extent? (Use your own definition of successful)
  
• Is there a reason why Amy Chua, an obviously very educated Asian American, would so deeply reinforce the "Asian parent" stereotype by advocating it? Is this a positive, negative, or neutral stereotype? How much truth does it hold?
  
• Anything you'd like to say

Happy debating and good luck on finals! Don't Asian fail... hehehe kidding.

Personally, I feel like neither way of parenting is more effective in raising a child; parents have to find a good mix of tight, work-you-to-death drilling and positive reinforcement. As someone who's grown up in less of a strict "Asian parent" environment, I think that I've benefited from both worlds of parenting; learning what high expectations to aspire for, but always encouraged to find ways to enrich my life, and to be happy. Although Amy Chua's children are stereotypically successful, based on the way they got there, I wonder whether they're happy, something I personally consider to be a key component of being successful.

And as to the reason Amy Chua so strongly reinforces the "Asian parent" stereotype, I think it's because she's been so successful, she sees no reason her daughters can't be equally or even more successful. The stereotype, in addition to being misused in a lot of cases, casts a negative light on Asians. People often get the idea that Asians as a whole are overly competitive and don't like to have fun (or don't know how), and lack well-roundedness. Because the stereotype emphasizes no sports or extracurricular activities, the assumption is that Asians do nothing but study all day, which is very often untrue. Although Amy Chua embodies the "Asian parent" mentality, I feel like not many parents go to the extent that she does, especially with her story regarding the piano piece with her daughter. I really disliked her handling of the situation, and especially her sarcastic "Everyone is special in their special own way...Even losers are special in their own special way" statement. Like Mr.Lee says all the time, don't judge your scores or your ability based on the way someone else does, each person has different capabilities and talents. You should be judged based on the best you can do and not be compared to genius siblings and relatives.

Is it alright that I was/am disgusted by her? Now I realize why my bony friends complain that they're fat.

I think I'm going to define successful as being happy and being a person who can contribute back to society (meaning good-hearted, caring, trustworthy, etc). I think the "Western way" makes kids happier, and this is just from personal experience. Being Asians in an Asian community, I think that many of us could be diagnosed as clinically depressed this year. Not getting A's makes a lot of us feel bad, doesn't it? And our choices are either to go fight harder or cringe away. Whatever approach we take, I don't think we're happy until we get that A and hold on to it. Hopefully a lot of people agree or this paragraph went to waste?

The "Western" style of parenting kind of encourages people to become what they want to be. It's called motivation and letting kids try stuff on their own rather than having stuff pushed upon them. A lot of Caucasian students are quite successful because they WANT to work hard. A lot of Asian students end up depressed and wasting time, stuck at Elite/ACI/whatever places there are because they don't do as well because they NATURALLY aren't good at what their parents want them to be good at. Two paragraphs short: "Western" parenting encourages kids to become who they want to become and not because a job pays a lot or a college is "prestigious."

I agree with Albert -- she thinks that if she can do it, everyone else can too. It's quite unfortunate that her daughter just reinforced the idea by succeeding with the donkey song. I feel like her kids might not be really happy in the future unless they accomplish all that they (or their mom) want to accomplish. Perhaps she just wants to revolutionize society?

Screw dictionary.com. Dictionary.com defines success as the attainment of wealth, position, honors, or the like. I am overriding the dictionary meaning of success and declaring that success is the measure of personal improvement and not how you stack up against classmates, colleagues, coworkers, teammates, etc. As someone once said, “Success is subjective, not objective.” Even though I consider myself a product of Asian parenting, I highly disagree with Amy Chua’s rationale, because she is basing success on the “praise [and] admiration” of others, not self-improvement.

I feel used as my life purpose is to make my parents happy, not myself. It irks me that Asian parents use their children to show off “successful parenting.” The measurement of a child’s success is a reflection of the parents. They pass the same mentality—that what you can produce is what you are—to their children, as many Asian students classify themselves by the college, numbers, or letter grades. Many A students assume superiority over a B student, a malicious mentality that is used to fuel the accomplished, rather than to encourage others to succeed. The "Holy Trinity" has been set as the requirement for successful careers; Harvard, Princeton, and Yale are what I like to call "brand name" colleges. My cousin got a full ride to Rice (number one choice), but his mom forced him to go to Yale, even though he was waitlisted, against his will (because he did not enjoy the competitive environment). Many other colleges may suit a child's academic endeavors, but it seems like in an Asian parent's mind, its Yale or the eternal failure and disgrace. They have no room to explore; everything is predetermined, including where they will spend the next four years of their life.

I believe in tough love, and to a certain extent, it is effective at “motivating” certain students. However, contrary to what Chua believes, everyone IS different. Different tactics work on different people. A student with a mental condition cannot be “motivated” the same way Chua berates her daughters. But she over generalizes and believes that every Chinese is able to “assume strength” and take the verbal abuse. Her frightening list at the beginning shows that she is standardizing the requirements for success which makes “success objective, not subjective.” Her daughters must succeed the way she deems acceptable, which doesn’t include participating in acting or sports.

Not all Asians are like Chua and debunks the Asian stereotype (this article made me feel better): http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704111504576059720804985228.html

Amy Chua definitely believes that the ends justify the means; after reading this article, I'm inclined to agree. Though her methods are strict, they bring results. I'm sure that her daughters are grateful because they know, firsthand, that hard work pays off. Seriously. From what I read, her daughters are happy--in the end. And isn't that what matters?

I was a bit on the fence about her parenting style until I read about her family. Chua's parents clearly embodied the traits she describes; as a result, their children are successful (whatever definition you choose, they are successful). One of Chua's sisters, Cynthia, has Down Syndrome. Now, from what I have observed in Western culture, most parents would resign themselves to this "burden" of taking care of a "disabled" child. In fact, 84%-94% of fetuses with Down Syndrome are terminated in the United States because parents don't want to deal with this supposed hardship. But Chua's parents refused to see Cynthia as "disabled" or a "burden." They pushed her the same way they pushed the rest of their children. And guess what? Cynthia succeeded. She holds two international Special Olympics gold medals in swimming. Because her parents believed in her abilities, they didn't have to "try to persuade themselves that [they weren't] disappointed about how their [kid] turned out"--because they really weren't disappointed. This is a perfect example of why Chua believes that "letting [kids] see what they're capable of, and arming them with skills, work habits and inner confidence that no one can ever take away" leads them to be successful--and happy. Cynthia is successful; no one can take that away from her. And I'm sure she's happy. I don't have any source for that assertion, but I don't think anyone would contest Cynthia's happiness. Her parents didn't let Down Syndrome define her life. They refused to allow Down Syndrome impede her progress. Essentially, their Chinese parenting (that seems so stringent and restricting) freed Cynthia and allowed her to realize her fullest potential.

Sure, accepting imperfections helps to build character; doesn't hard work, as well? If we're going to consider hypotheticals like "kids might not be really happy in the future unless they accomplish all that they (or their mom) want to accomplish," then we can also look at the Western style of parenting. If children always accept their shortcomings, they might not be really happy in the future because they didn't push themselves; they always had a safety net to fall back on; they could always persuade themselves that they were okay with mediocrity.

Honors, awards, and titles. They exist for a reason: to recognize those who achieve. I'm sure that none of us mind receiving awards. What's the point of National Merit (and I know a lot of you want to be finalists)? For most of us, it's not about the money ($1000--i think--..I even heard someone complaining about this today). It's about the title. Many of us gasp in awe when we hear of someone with so many leadership positions, titles, good grades, all that jazz. Do we really sit there and contemplate whether or not they are happy? No. And what about AP scores? I know scores of fellow students who are thankful that they have tough teachers because they know they will do well on the AP test. The ends justify the means. I also know scores of students who are worried because although their teachers are nice and encouraging, they will not prepare them for success on the AP test. Again, the ends justify the means. An unnamed teacher (let's call this person Ms. Grey) once told me that a father emailed her, thanking Ms. Grey for pushing his child so hard, because in the end, the child got a 5 on the AP test. The father didn't care about all the complaints about Ms. Grey during the year because in the end, his child succeeded. All that grueling work pays off in the form of these "objective" measurements of success--and in personal satisfaction. One can be happy with hard work, knowing that one had the mental fortitude to push through it. If awards and titles are not a measure of happiness (as some believe), then they shouldn't indicate a lack of happiness either. We'd be hypocrites to pretend that these "objective" measurements of success mean nothing. Chua's reasoning is that Western parents simply hope their children will want to succeed. Chua's method guarantees it. I don't believe Chua's method will force children to rely on external gratification, rather than internal satisfaction. They will have "inner confidence that no one can ever take away."

Look, I'm not saying that I would like Amy Chua as a parent. I'm not saying that I want to be like Amy Chua. I'm just saying that there is a method to her madness.

Success is getting what I want in the most efficient manner, without resorting to violations of moral/ethical codes. These codes cannot be carved in stone; they vary from not only society to society but person to person.

Getting what I want through my effort exclusively is almost impossible. With the exception of few cases (such as getting the air I need to survive), I always need to ask for someone else's help or cooperation. For example, if I want lunch money, I ask my parents. You can argue that I can get a job—but an employer must first hire me in order for me to earn my own cash. When dealing with so many people, asking them for favors, etc., good communication skills are indispensable. Ms. Chua's parenting tactics does not seem to nurture social competency in her children.

Using a personal example to back up this one... Though I was allowed to watch TV, for some reason or another I never spent most of my time in front of it. Consequently, I did not know many cartoons or films I could easily discuss with peers. While it seems trivial that I was excluded from entertainment discussions, being able to find common topics with peers is extremely important in developing communication skills. Talking on the same level about the same topics is an elementary but integral step to social adequacy. Unless the majority of the world's children can memorize lines of Beethoven better than lyrics from the SpongeBob theme song, most of these "Asian children" will lack closeness and accessibility to their peers. Imprints of this early aloofness and separation will cause rifts in a professional setting too.

Children tend to mimic others' actions very openly. I would not be surprised if Sophia and Louisa were cultivated into demanding brats who, when adults or even teenagers, morphed into Mama Chuas and began imposing severe threats on others in order to get what they want (attain success.) This abrasive method of communication does not succeed often. These children may comply with their mother's threats because she grasps their leashes, but do they really have the control over whether a disagreeable friend or coworker gets to eat supper or host a birthday party?

The pendulum could swing the other way—if Ms. Chua's aggression so beats her children into submission, they will not be 'successful' people either. If they comply with every demand and need this external negative incentive to push them around, they cannot achieve individual goals. I think of this parenting style as nurturing Bonsai kittens: put a young kitten in a bottle and make it grow into any shape at the expense of healthy development. I don't think forcing two girls to conform to one model highlights any individual talents. "Special" isn't always cheesy celebration or euphemism as Ms. Chua suggests. It would be idealistic to suggest raw talent can make us suddenly desirable, but never honing them—or worse, never knowing they existed—is just as good as lacking the advantage in the first place. Distinct traits give us something to market, lend us some competitive edge against what I deem "all other Asian kids who play piano and violin."

I believe that people reach success when they are satisfied with their own lives and their accomplishments. Perhaps some people do require wealth and big achievements to feel successful. But for others who place less value on ambition, being satisfied with yourself could mean contributing to the world or simply living a modest but happy life. With this in mind, I believe that both Asian and Western parenting methods have their benefits. Asian parenting provides discipline and pressure that, if used correctly, could serve as added motivation. But I also find that it tends to be geared toward only one accepted version of success. Rather than following the one path that some Asian parents adhere to (learn violin/piano, excel at math, get into Harvard), I think it is more important to cultivate a child’s individual talents. In this way, Western parenting may be more encouraging and less stifling, though sometimes too lax. So I think parents need to find their own balance of methods for a particular child.

Based on what she mentioned about her own parents and upbringing, I’m guessing that at least part of the reason Amy Chua holds such rigid views is that they’ve been ingrained into her from early on. I also think that she reinforces the stereotype because it has worked for her. She has managed to achieve what she believes to be success and now applies it to everyone else.
I think her stereotype of Asians is very negative, and the article itself presents a negative view of Asians to the rest of the world. Not everyone acts like she does. In fact, most Asian parents I know are not that extreme. To me, she even comes off as unreasonable simply because she seems to state her views and generalizations almost as facts. I don’t think it’s accurate for her to present her own radical approach as the embodiment of Asian parenting, and I disagree with many of her stereotypes. I was rather stunned at her assertion that a Chinese child getting a B would “never happen.” Seriously? While there must be some validity to these generalizations for them to become accepted stereotypes, ultimately, stereotypes are often exaggerated and never completely true.

One last thing. As for her sarcastic comment that “even losers are special,” my response is: So is each and every winner. I believe there are many different ways to win and become successful. Even if her daughter wasn’t good at piano, perhaps she would have been an excellent dancer instead.

I wonder if Amy Chua is happy. She gives the rigid impression of confidence and pride, but not happiness. Like Albert, Jody, Victoria, Nancy, Emily, and Shirley, I think success is an open concept. The pursuit of success is unique to each person, but I think, at the heart of the matter, is happiness. It’s a reflection of not just ability, but mindset.

I’ll admit I was a little incensed when I first read the article. I found it to be a false, ignorant, and bigoted representation of Chinese culture. I am a first generation Asian-American. My mother and father emigrated from Taiwan. It would seem that my heritage would fit Chua’s model of “Chinese” parenting, but it doesn’t. My parents have always placed a high premium on intellectual discovery; they encouraged pursuit of knowledge, not vain recognition of knowledge. My parents appreciate effort and thought—they could care less about grades. My childhood was fun—not the restrictive, inflexible lifestyle Chua portrays children of Asian lineage to have. I’ve had my fair share of tutoring and “academic enrichment,” but in moderation. Reading Chua’s article, I am so grateful for my family; they are proof that stereotypes are only stereotypes. I don’t like it when I am pre-classified. I want my personality and my actions to define me, not the extremes set by typecast.

As much as I contest her philosophy, I can identify with some of Chua’s perceptions. I do feel that I am held to a high expectation of intellect and achievement, and I do feel the duress to excel—but not to extremes. Chua’s philosophy captures no medium; you can either be the strict Asian parent or the coddling westerner. She doesn’t allow compromise, and that’s a loss on her part. Parents aren’t meant to be disciplinarians, but examples of guidance, love and care. They can teach us, but it’s our choice and responsibility to learn. Chua prides perfection, routine, and efficiency, but what about creativity, individuality, and will? In the excerpt, she wrote of drilling her daughter until she learned a difficult piano piece. Unless she mastered it, the meals were held back and Christmas gifts were taken away. Chua also took to insults, taunting daughter Sophia as “lazy, cowardly, self-indulgent and pathetic.” This is where tough love evolves into verbal abuse and child neglect. It’s not okay to bully your children into compliance. It’s a wrong and illicit action. Most of all, it’s dehumanizing.

The parent-child relationship she characterizes is not wholly healthy; it seems more akin to one of dictator and follower. There was one quote that particularly resonated with me; as she and her husband exchanged parenting ideas, she said, “I am happy to be the one hated.” Success shouldn’t be sought at the cost of familial bonds and happiness. That kind of crude success isn’t worth it, in my eyes. It’s a perverse pursuit that burdens more than it heartens.

I do agree, however, with the Chua’s notion that each child has potential. But that potential shouldn’t be so ruthlessly exploited that it robs the child of individuality. In Chua’s household, “play dates…TV, computer games, [choice] in extracurricular activity, any grade less than A” are forbidden. Also, “not [being] the No. 1 student in every subject except gym and drama” is unacceptable. She establishes these idealistic goals and stubbornly fixates on them, never giving her children the freedom to explore identity. Everything is pre-determined, properly set up for their fixed success.

All have the potential to succeed and the potential to be happy. Children are not wet pieces of clay for parents to sculpt into perceived perfection.

These are some articles about the controversy that I found intriguing. The interview with Chua is the most reflective of her personality, and I think it exposes a more honest, human side of her.

Interview:
http://healthland.time.com/2011/01/11/chinese-vs-western-mothers-q-a-with-amy-chua/

http://www.slate.com/id/2280712/

http://www.opposingviews.com/i/how-to-raise-an-unhappy-child

Like the others who have previously posted, I believe in a broad definition of success. In my opinion, success is exceeding one’s goals or perceived limits. For the individual, this could range from learning a specific skill to attaining wealth or receiving awards. Amy Chua’s method of parenting imposes her opinions of success onto her children instead of allowing them to discover their interests and talents for themselves.

While Chua’s parenting style is rather harsh, I am willing to accept the benefits of Chua’s “Asian” parenting. At times, children (and even adults) need motivation from external forces to push them to practice and desire improvement. This motivation can even confirm to them that diligence and hard work is rewarded, leading to a pattern of good work ethic. On the other hand, Chua’s method of threatening her child with “no dinner” and “no Christmas presents” is quite drastic when considering the relative importance of learning a piano piece; however, I acknowledge the merit behind the lesson Chua taught Louisa. Western parenting also has it pros and cons. It allows the child some independence in determining their own paths in life. Furthermore, the looser restrictions of Western parenting permit children to develop social skills that are crucial in adulthood. Yet, these children can become easily disheartened by repeated failure, causing them to lose the motivation to strive for achievement.

Amy Chua’s extreme version of “Asian” parenting creates a negative stereotype for Chinese and other Asian cultures, giving them the appearance as slave drivers, forcing their children to extra classes and music lessons to mold them into their ideal child. The strongest reason behind Chua’s advocacy for this method of parenting is simple: it works. She confirms again and again that through diligence and a little “tough love,” children can surpass their potential and achieve success. Because of her reliance in this method, it is difficult for her to venture in any alternative direction that may not prove as productive. Moreover, the “Asian” stereotype is not completely valid. True, several Asian cultures place great value on success, whether academic or monetary. But this value system is not distinctly “Asian.” Caucasian parents are capable of driving their children to strive for similar goals and have been successful. In addition, some Asian families value achievement in sports or the arts as much as in academics. The upbringing of the parents often dictates their views on the rearing of their own children.

Of course, having a parent like Amy Chua would not be ideal. But her harsh way of raising her children comes from good intentions. All she wants for her children is for them to have an easier life than theirs.

My initial reactions to this article were ones of outrage. Amy Chua seemed to be proudly advertising exactly the type of parenting that most people would strive to avoid. She seemed emotionally stunted and unloving-the antithesis of a good parent. But there is one fact that is unavoidable- she genuinely wants to see her daughters succeed. Although her actions have become malignant and often crass, her intentions were nonetheless pure. My good feelings about her end there.

The countless examples of her “parenting” often made me cringe and feel slightly embarrassed that she was a symbol of the “Chinese parent.” Chinese parents deserve a better mascot and role model-frankly, she makes them look bad. One instance that especially infuriated me was when Amy Chua called her daughter garbage. Garbage is defined as any matter that is no longer wanted or needed-trash. How dare a mother who calls her own daughter “garbage” parade herself as a paragon of parenting perfection? Tough love is one thing but this kind of degradation crosses the line. She justifies her actions by insisting that despite this, self-esteem remains untainted. She reminisces that her own father had called her “garbage,” but insists that she knew how highly he thought of her. To me, this type of reasoning comes from the same mentality as abusive relationships. I only hurt you because I love you. It sounds oxymoronic for a reason, or rather, the lack of it.

Although Amy Chua continuously tries to justify her methods of parenting I find myself unable look past how brutally she treats her children. Like Nancy said, she believes that the end justifies the means. However, I believe that childhood is a journey that is filled with growth, emotional development, and a burgeoning of the true self. Surely the experiences of the road traveled are just as relevant as the destination itself? It is not okay to treat children badly no matter what the results. Amy Chua is deeply concerned for her children’s success but seems to blindly ignore their emotional needs. This imbalance validates her as an unfit parent.

Although i personally dislike the harsh methods of Chinese parenting, I found myself agreeing with many of the author's points in the article. I believe that the "better" method of parenting depends on what type of success one wants in their children. If a parent seeks concrete success in the form of straight A's and excessive trophies or awards, then the Chinese method of raising children is better. If a parent wants his or her child to be successful in terms of personal improvement and self-confidence, then Western parenting is better suited for them.

Amy Chua probably advocates the Chinese method of parenting since she found that it worked out well for her. She eventually came to appreciate her parents' harsh criticisms since she found it motivated her to work harder and be more successful. She also treats her child the same way, not out of a lack of love, but out of confidence in her child's talents. Embracing the Chinese mother stereotype, she argues that her children need motivation, which I find myself agreeing to, since most children will not willingly force themselves to work. She also mentions that the children will enjoy practicing instruments later on as they become more skilled, which I also have to agree with, since the praise and self-confidence that the children earn from playing an instrument skillfully will also help to encourage them. However I do feel there is a difference between motivating one's children and insulting them. Amy Chua crosses the line when she calls her child "garbage", which I feel will not inspire her child to work harder. Although that same treatment motivated her to work harder, I doubt it has the same effect on everyone, and her assumption that it does is unfair to her children.

I find it unfair to criticize the Chinese parents as unloving or heartless, since they still genuinely care about their children; they simply seek a different form of success for their children. However, if a child could be motivated to be successful without the interference of the parents, I believe the child could attain a more reasonable balance between both definitions of success.

After reading the article, I do see some logic on Amy Chua’s “Asian” parenting. Though it’s not always joy and happiness under this type of parenting, in my opinion, it’s a more effective way to raise successful kids, successful as in leading a life of high status in society and something with fruits that can be measured by materialism. From what I’ve read about in a Chinese mother’s perspective, I can see that she truly wants her children to succeed and to lead better lives in the future. However, that definition of success is measured by wealth and by visible achievement, tangible accomplishments.

Some may argue that accomplishments render a type of success as well as a kind of satisfaction and joy. However, whose joy is that? Who’s life? Though Chinese parents, like all parents want the best for their children—an upbringing that includes preparing and pushing their children to advance in academics and music—I feel that they neglect another integral part of the definition of success. Success, like many others have said, is subjective. Though it may be that Chinese parents believe that they know best for their children, their parenting method is one of forcing their beliefs of success on their children, never really considering what their children want and need. Even though the push to “success” that Asian parenting implements does yield results, I think that on the other hand, Western parenting does a better job raising children to be successful in a different sense, the definition being something characterized simply by feelings of satisfaction and happiness, the pleasure of following your own dreams and passions. While reading some of the comments to the Amy Chua article, I found an interesting personal narrative—this particular individual fully disagreed with Amy Chua’s perspective on good parenting, backing her opinion with personal experience. For her, as a little girl, she used to love playing piano, but once her proud parents began making her practice for hours a day or to show off to her parents’ friends, she became began feeling an aversion to the instrument. All the memories she’s had of her long-ago passion is of a stick smacking her hands red “every time [she] fell asleep at the keys.” She ended the comment with “to me, piano has been and always will be a chore.” Because of that “Asian” parenting, a passion she once had turned into a chore for her, a tedious chore. This is a perfect example of how that kind of parenting may also be detrimental, as it imposes the parents’ wants on the children’s lives.

Thus, I believe that though Asian parenting does have its benefits—quick results— also has its setbacks—pain, strained mother-daughter relationships, and others. The definition of success in Asian parenting is characterized only by materialistic senses while Western is defined by the individual’s emotions and feelings of self-satisfaction. Both, therefore, are based on different views of success. Personally, I have mixed feelings on this stereotypical Asian parenting. Yes, it does motivate children to do their best, taking care of materialistic needs in the future (because according to the Asian mantra, success in academics brings a better life—a better life in the sense that you’ll be rich—but in doing so, it also abandons the children themselves and their emotional needs, another integral part of the feeling of success. There are so many ways to define success and I feel like Asian and Western parenting does fulfill one or the other well, but not both. Therefore, I believe that a little of both would do—a method of parenting that motivates with strict discipline, but also simultaneously has a softer side, one that fosters creativity and personal growth as an individual and not as a musical prodigy or a math whizz.

Success is when one is fully satisfied with what they are doing/ have done.

When Chua said that Westerners care too much about their kids' self esteem and that Chinese parents assume their children's strength, I could not agree more. I think as kids, we have learned that our parents will always love us. Though we may resist their authority, we will still hold a respect and appreciation for them because they are our providers. Perhaps, we break things in our fits of rage or even lay hands on our parents, but wouldn't we feel guilty afterwards? I know I would...

In this process, the Chinese style teaches kids that the parents want their children to succeed just as badly, if not more, as the kids want to. Though the methods to success are "unorthodox" to Westerners, will the kids' self esteem really be shattered as long as they know that their parents are driven by good intentions? Kids will feel frustration and anger, but never resentment, because they know that their parents want them to succeed. Also, when we nail that piano piece or rank at the top of the class, do we not feel extremely satisfied? In Chua's words, the kids' self esteem is only destroyed if the parents let their children give up.

I've been generalizing, and I'll do it once more, but I think many of us here fall under the "Asian Parents" category. We all seem pretty happy with our lives, which have been under Asian parenting, so is that not success? I realize that the kids of Western parenting can also be happy, and therefore fit the definition of success. However, I think Asian parenting is more effective in raising successful children because those children will grow up knowing that failure is not an attractive option.

I believe that Asian-style parenting is WAY more effective because Asian parenting allows the child to have a sense of drive and determination. The children start working hard and developing a good work ethic while at a young age so they’re already used to it. To me, a successful child is a child who gets good grades, is respectful and well-behaved, and has his or her own talents. Western parenting is too loose and boosts the child’s self esteem too much due to incessant encouragement and undeserved compliments. It may be because Western values differ from an Asians, at which Asians are extremely competitive and believe that they have always have to be superior. Being slightly cruel and maintaining a strict behavior like the Asian parenting is essential; it implements a good behavior in the child and ensures that the child seldom rebels. This is why in Asian parenting, when a child rebels, they merely throw a tantrum or have a bad attitude; whereas in Western parenting, children do dramatic things, such as run away from home or become violent. Asian parenting allows children to grow up in an environment where they already have to work hard, so when they enter adulthood, they can adapt and survive easily.
Amy Chua reinforces the “Asian parent” stereotype because it’s true and it works. Although the strict parent seems cruel and inhumane, the time, effort, and money put into their child is all for their well-being. When I was young, my sister and I and even my cousins experienced the same type of Asian parenting. Learning piano, my sister and I (since the age 4 and 6) were forced each day to practice for hours. My parents would time us each day, and make sure we were playing each piece perfectly before moving on to the next. One time my sister practiced for so long she cried, and cried, and cried… and cried some more. But my parents, although sympathetic, upheld their strict demeanor and made her practice until she got it down (then took her to Disneyland.) In another instance, when my cousin received her first B in high school, she was so distressed, she locked herself in the bathroom for hours to inflict punishment on herself – a behavior that is implemented from Asian parenting. Wanting their children to be successful and nothing more, Asian parents are so authoritarian only because they want the best for their children.

Out of the entire range of opinions I have just read (and, yes, I just spend some good time reading everything on here), I would have to go the middle ground, not a namby-pamby middle-ground though.
Chua has been successful by her own measurements, her daughters' measurements, and her general perception of "success." To me, and to many on this debate, she has failed to completely address the emotional side--the stereotypical "soft" side to things that 'Western' nurturing seems to, well, nurture.
I believe Chua has polarized this topic of parenting too much. There is not simple 'Asian' way that is excoriating, strictly disciplined, and generally satanic. There exists no marshmallow-fluffy 'Western' way. The very polarization of Asian vs. Western is incorrect. I believe it is safe to assume (yes, I ASSUME) Chua is a radical among a sea of moderates. Media, being what it is and doing what it does to sell, has choosen the MOST radical article Chua can put together. The very insightful article by Victoria (thank you, by the way!) presented a softer side that had regrets. Even Chua does not stalwartly support every dictatorial thing she has done.
So, what is the correct way?
There is none. And if there were one, than there should be many more. My own parents have always sat me down and told me their feelings about my progress. When I receive good grades, there is nothing more than a Chua-approved "And next time?"
This used to offend me greatly. Now, it still does to some extent. Chua's generalization of expectation breeds confidence AND competence, however, is correct. The seemingly coarse "And next time?" question actually suggests that there will be an assured 'next time' and that I will succeed. I push to fulfill this duty to my parents and to myself. If there is anything I dislike, it is the possibility, the 'if' (if you will), that I could have succeeded and did not try hard enough. Chua's harsh punishments are unnecessarily harsh, but I have seen versions of them that are toned down and equally effective.
Dinner time!
I'll be back with an interesting Psychology perspective, though!