Asian Tiger mum versus liberal Western mum

I have been reading The Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mum and its so delicious, I would have read it in one sitting if not for the nightmares of both kids that had me running into both rooms one after the other and soothing them back to sleep. And since I've soothed them, now I can't sleep as I'm thinking about what the author's been writing about. Given the loose stereotypes she's working with, I believe I fall firmly into the Western mum model: I celebrate any achievement, no matter how mediocre, I don't push either academically and time spent after school for older one involves playing in both structured and unstructured fashions. Worksheets? Assessment books? what's that?? We spend more time gazing at the sky, looking at cloud formations then we do, writing ABCs. As for my little one, she can't speak still at 14 months but is fantastic with sign language. Am I worried? Not really, although I believe many parents will be. My Tiger mum mother told me that SHE couldn't speak at 3, and the dam burst and she outalked all her siblings after, and still does, so Paige not speaking is really no big deal.

And then came the chinese teacher.

Maeve's school has no chinese teacher yet, and given that she was away from school most of last year, her chinese education is, well, elementary at best. So, I'm trying out this chinese teacher that her cousin is using. And said teacher told me in no uncertain terms, "your daughter is extremely active, and precocious", "my chinese class became a gymnastics class as she rolled around on the floor most of the time", "she has no focus and cannot concentrate, she will be misunderstood when she goes to primary one (i think the subtext here is, she will be sent to the principal's office a lot for disruptive behaviour)".....the lecture was one hour long, I kid not. At the end, I needed repentence, absolution and and self-flegelation for being such a lousy lax parent who would produce an unmotivated, underachieving child, and it will be squarely MY FAULT. I have been thinking hard about her words, which also echo that of Amy Chua, author of the Tiger Mum book. Would that really happen? Will my children be mediocre because I didn't push them hard enough? I don't know as I'm still mulling over it. Which brings me to MY MUM.

Tiger mum extraodinaire.

I think all parents that generation are. I remember saturdays were always spent at Bras Basah Complex, sniffing out all manner of assessment books. When I was 12, I had a record of 70 of those books, some were repeats of course, that mum forgot she bought. The funny thing was, I was also really secretly a tiger cub at heart, although the outward manifestations are those of the rebel without a cause. I did the lot, faster then mum could grade them, and spent most of my primary school years bored with lessons. I also enjoyed exams as I finished them pretty quickly, most of which were already tackled in said assessment books. The feeling of success was intoxicating.

So the question I'm mulling over is, why did i not become a Tiger mum myself? Why have I gone all lax and liberal, favouring playtime over any kind of homework? I think the motivating factor is the insatiable desire to give my kids the sort of childhood I probably would have wanted. To produce inquisitive, knowledge-thirsty, challenging-the-status-quo, kind of kids. I am not that. I am the product of my education system unfortunately, and those of my generation learnt passively. Or rather, I have been punished often enough not to challenge the norm. At the same time, the tiger instincts have also pushed me beyond what I was and am intellectually capable of. I probably wouldn't have gone to the schools I went to if I didn't/and wasn't put on punishing academic routines. Refer to said assessment books again.

So, now, I have accepted that the primary school still demands a fair amount of sitting down and learning passively and I have (no choice) but to prepare Maeve for that. Unless the new education minister changes that, she will have to conform to the aural, visual style of learning (she is a kinesthetic learner and learns best through active movement, as demonstrated by her rolling on the floor at her first chinese tuition session). Anyways, this week, I've started her on the sit-at-the-table-do-this-worksheet-together kind of thing and I'm not sure who has more cause to weep. So through lots of threats, emotional blackmails, plus cane visually on display, we managed to go through a few pages of math and english, and practising the writing of her chinese name.

"mummy, why didn't you choose an easier name?"
"I went for meaning, now let's try again, one raindrop, one tree trunk, a leaf, rabbit ears..."
" couldn't you just choose a few boxes and just a pair of rabbit ears?"
"Focus! Now, let's try, one raindrop..."
" I had it with raindrops in my name. Send the lighting bolt!"

so we made it through the week. But I'm not sure how long I can last as this educating her this way doesn't seem fun at all and is causing tears on both sides and probably high blood pressure too, but i realise that if I don't succeed in getting her to practice sitting still and writing her name or whatever it is she doesn't like to do, she may truely become an underachiever. So, I'm going to give this method a try for as long as it takes me to produce some result, good or bad, before I re-strategise.

The end of a long long road

Come the end of May, our journey, started in June last year, will officially come to an end, with Maeve's surgery to remove her port-a-cath. She no longer needs it as she has been cancer-free for 6 months, the critical time period for a relapse of her kind of cancer. I am so looking forward to the removal as it has been a constant and painful reminder for me and many nights are filled with sheer terror of a possible relapse. When it gets removed, I can once again see her as a normal child, I don't have to fear her getting hit by a ball at play, falling face down if she trips, the sort of thing that all 4 year olds, especially high energy ones like mine, are capable of. More importantly, I can LET MY GUARD DOWN! I'm now trying to prepare her for her surgery, that is, mentally, going through the steps with her, so that in 3 weeks time, she'll be so familiar with it, she won't be fearful.

As I reflect on this entire journey, I realise that the one thing that stood out most for me, was the fact that God was in control of the entire situation, even if I wasn't. He probably would have loved to tell me, "do not fear, for I love you", but I was too distraught, no, traumatised, to even listen. So, God sent His earthly angels, friends, ex-colleagues, students, family, to pour out an immense amount of love upon us. While I was fearful, I never doubted how loved we were as a family. Truely, through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for thou art with me. This year, I am also devouring the bible, like a parched woman in the desert as I never want to feel far away from God anymore, or that I'll have to handle another crisis on my own. I realise, when really pushed to the brink, I come up short, that I have such little faith, choosing instead to trust in what I see literally. A little like King Ahaz in Isaiah I guess, and he's a pretty lousy king.

I'm going to keep the port, after it is removed, as a constant reminder, so that I'll never get too apathetic, too comfortable, too full of confidence in myself, that I forget God or His mercy.

So if you're reading this blog entry, pray with us for a smooth surgery and that my little one will be brave. As it is, she has decided she doesn't want children next time, as "I don't want the doctor to cut me up" (both my kids came out via C-section!).