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Re: Chinese Mothers are Superior
from a chinese author:
<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Quote:</div><div class="ubbcode-body">My mother once told me if I got a B to not bother coming home. My father drilled me in math until I developed a lifelong fear of math. To "lose face" for the Chang family name by letting my parents down in any way, after all they had sacrificed for me, was unfathomable.
Their tough love, like Chua's, was out of deep love. But did it work?
For a while. Until I couldn't do it anymore. Chua's children were never allowed to "not be the No. 1 student in every subject but gym and drama." My parents also expected me to be #1, and through elementary school I worked so hard to be #1...but guess what? So did my best friend! Her Korean Mother wanted HER to be #1. So every day, someone was going home a disappointment to her family.
Over time, I developed a fear of trying things that I couldn't excel at. I rebelled toward subjects my parents couldn't tutor and train me in: creative writing, African dance. I hungered for praise, and applied myself wholeheartedly in every class, every job where I got any. My drive to succeed propelled me to the Ivy League, to the media elite, to The New York Times -- and a near nervous breakdown.
I was good at my job. But I had chronic hives. I couldn't sleep, and when I did I would wake up with fingernail imprints in the palms of my clenched hands. I couldn't get pregnant. I was 30, a success, but felt a failure. </div></div>
from a chinese author:
<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Quote:</div><div class="ubbcode-body">My mother once told me if I got a B to not bother coming home. My father drilled me in math until I developed a lifelong fear of math. To "lose face" for the Chang family name by letting my parents down in any way, after all they had sacrificed for me, was unfathomable.
Their tough love, like Chua's, was out of deep love. But did it work?
For a while. Until I couldn't do it anymore. Chua's children were never allowed to "not be the No. 1 student in every subject but gym and drama." My parents also expected me to be #1, and through elementary school I worked so hard to be #1...but guess what? So did my best friend! Her Korean Mother wanted HER to be #1. So every day, someone was going home a disappointment to her family.
Over time, I developed a fear of trying things that I couldn't excel at. I rebelled toward subjects my parents couldn't tutor and train me in: creative writing, African dance. I hungered for praise, and applied myself wholeheartedly in every class, every job where I got any. My drive to succeed propelled me to the Ivy League, to the media elite, to The New York Times -- and a near nervous breakdown.
I was good at my job. But I had chronic hives. I couldn't sleep, and when I did I would wake up with fingernail imprints in the palms of my clenched hands. I couldn't get pregnant. I was 30, a success, but felt a failure. </div></div>
)
Looking back now I realize she was a bundle of nerves.....always hurrying.....looked fretful all the time. I wonder what happened to her 
I remember now she was terrified of her Dad....I used to think a little iddy biddy man like that 
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