Tiger Moms: just another species in the animal kingdom

The thing about stereotypes is there is usually some truth in them. So when Amy Chua's Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother caused so much fuss earlier this year, I wasn't enraged by her strict parenting style at all. Every Asian mother I know, including mine, can identify - some more than others - with the notorious Tiger Mom. My Asian friends were almost unanimous in their shoulder-shrugging and incapability to raise an eyebrow. Okay, Chua generalises a bit much in her attempt to define a Chinese parent and does it publicly, but ... Duh?

As far as being a textbook Tiger Mom goes, my mother fails. And she knows it. "I should have made you do more maths in primary," she sighs every time I come home saying I have no idea what my calculus teacher is talking about. "I'm too lenient," she'll say, shaking her head. "You play too much and I don't push you enough. Do you know any Korean mother who is less pushy than me?"

Truthfully? No, I don't. It's probably why I'll never be a musical prodigy or be able to crunch numbers like a calculator. Practice makes perfect and no matter what critics say, results from international student assessments are on Chua's side. And although the depression and suicide rates among young Asian-American women are worrying, it isn't fair for the blame to fall directly on the supposedly overbearing parents.

There are a lot of benefits that can come from growing up under the tiger-minded. By having to constantly meet high expectations, children develop high expectations for themselves. Plus it is very reassuring when your parents have absolute faith that you can succeed and do anything. Especially during those moments when self-esteem plummets for no discernible reason whatsoever.

Children aside, there is also a lot to be admired in Amy Chua. Studies indicate that Chinese parents spend about 10 times as long drilling their children with academic activities than Western parents. Read her book and you'll know beyond a shadow of a doubt that her devotion and commitment to her kids knows no bounds. Sure, she's a controlling micromanager and the pressure is hard to handle, but at the end of the memoir her daughter Lulu says, "Of course I'm glad you forced me to play the violin." Sophia, her eldest, complains, "Everyone's going to think that I was subjected to Chinese parenting, but I wasn't. I went along with it by my own choice."

I guess what Chua mistakenly expected readers to take as a given in her book was that for her parenting style to work, children have to know that their parents' love isn't dependent on results. They still have to be shown how much hope and love their parents have for their children's futures. If a Tiger Mom does all of this and her children are happy, it really is time to ask ourselves the question Tapu Misa posed in her article headlined "Who are we to judge?"

In the end don't all good parents try to help their children have brighter futures? As long as their children are happy and healthy, does it really matter which parenting method they use? I'll admit that sometimes I have difficulty putting myself into my parents' shoes.

Unfortunately we adolescents can't really do much except plough through this confusing stretch in life. I guess we'll just have to wait the 10 or 20 years to experience the joys of parenting for ourselves.

Maria Ji, Year 12, St Cuthbert's College