Showing posts with label Amy Chua. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Amy Chua. Show all posts

Saturday, March 26, 2011

When tiger moms go ape: why so much strife about the mystery of raising the kids?

Photo by Shawn Thompson

The controversy about tiger moms reminds me of what happens when human beings take the role of being a parent to an ape. There can be a lot of tension and strife.

A tiger mom like Amy Chua in her book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother argues for an aggressive, controlling mother to forge a successful, responsible and accomplished child.

That notion stings the sense of parenthood in the west, which has opted more for freedom, independence and self-esteem in raising children. I'll call that the rabbit mom because I can't think of a better name.

Some say the tiger mom produces angry, frustrated, anxious children.

Some say the rabbit mom produces irresponsible, passive, self-indulgent children who don't have sensible goals in life.

The clash is fierce between these points of view, tiger and rabbit. Both sides are sensitive to the idea that the kids will suffer the consequences. Plus, if one side is right, the other is wrong, and that is damaging to the sense of self of the parent. Tigers don't want to live like rabbits and rabbits don't want to live like tigers. Hence the heat of the controversy about tiger moms -- which are also found in the west, I might add. Just look who is yelling at her children the loudest from the sidelines at a game of hockey or soccer. That is no rabbit.

But what is also intriguing about this is the similarity in the clash of points of view when human beings are looking after orphan orangutans. I saw this when I was writing my book about orangutans, The Intimate Ape. I didn't write about the depth of this strife in the book because I wanted to keep the focus on orangutans.

But the IMAX film being released this April called Born To Be Wild, about orangutans and elephants, features the primatologist Birute Galdikas, who has been at the centre of the controversy for years in orangutan circles.

The issue with children, human or ape, is how much involvement the parent should have in the life of the child. How much should a parent try to shape and control the life of a child? Does too much contaminate the child? Does too little leave the child adrift?

Birute Galdikas in Borneo       Photo by Shawn Thompson
I don't want to take sides on the red ape version of the controversy. However, I can say from the time  I spent with Galdikas in Borneo that Galdikas believes in more involvement in the lives of young orangutans than others, who want the apes returned to the jungle quickly for more independence and less contact with human beings. Galdikas thinks human beings should be more involved in nurturing orphan orangutans, aware that they normally spend eight years with their mother learning how to be whole, well-functioning members of orangutan society.

When it comes to an issue like this of orangutans, the ape kids, the human emotions get hot and explosive. I can tell you that I have seen human beings on the verge of virtual combustion.

Tiger mom
When I look at the controversy that the tiger mom situation has fuelled, and the polarization that develops between east and west, male and female, husband and wife, parent and child, I see extremes, which are by nature polarized.

Each side chooses an extreme and tries to make its case by selecting examples of just the success or failure, the disaster or the miracle, of the extreme. We all know someone who is an example of the extreme. Grouping them together just proves that we know how to group things that are similar together.

Human beings may have some need to see extremes, to be in opposition, to create strife, whether it is politically or in relationships or in the treatment of apes. 

Human beings can create opposition and strife out of good intentions. That is one unexamined aspect of the tiger mom controversy.

Can we ever manage that side of ourselves to raise children, make a marriage work, settle the politics of a nation, and save a species like orangutans from extinction?

Where is the ability to negotiate with the tiger mom? 

Practically, as Aristotle would say, the mediation is in moderation. We can mix east and west, tiger and rabbit, parent and child, person and ape. It's a blending, not a polarization.

I have to add, as the father of two children, neither of whom turned out like Charlie Sheen, sometimes kids just turn out to be themselves whatever you do. I see the same thing happen as a teacher. You might amplify or dampen a trait or two, in a student, in a child, but how much do you ever radically alter the result in a human being?

Sometimes as a parent you are just along for the ride.

My kids are very different. One a tiger. One a rabbit. From two very different parents,  now divorced. So it's all both a mystery and a miracle to me, in this Chinese Year of the Rabbit. Sometimes you just buy the ticket and take the ride.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Why orangutan moms are better than tiger moms

Orangutans are no tiger moms. Nu-nu with her 10-day-old infant in the Taipei zoo...... Photo by Shawn Thompson
We’ve heard a lot lately about the philosophy of tiger moms, which is the Chinese version of tough love for your child and not the sort of thing that the liberated westerner wants to hear.

Yale University law professor Amy Chua explains in her 2011 book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mom that western parents have weakened their children by making them self-satisfied and indulgent under-achievers.

Is tiger mom Amy Chua right?
By contrast, the tiger mom cares for her children more deeply, in a more respectful way, through toughness and discipline, giving the child strength, confidence, aspirations and accomplishments. That, in turn, makes the child happier.

The fault, says Chua, lies in poorly adjusted western parents. Chua says in her uncompromisingly blunt way, “Western parents have to struggle with their own conflicted feelings about achievement, and try to persuade themselves that they are not disappointed about how their kids turned out.”

If ever there were a taboo that needed to be prodded and poked, it is what Chua is doing, criticizing  the already parentally insecure westerner where it hurts us the most. We know that differences in parenting styles are a big issue in a marriage that can inflame the tension between a couple and contribute to a divorce.

I have seen myself the same tensions in orangutan circles, where those caring for orphan orangutans clash over different styles of looking after "the kids," with tempers and outrage flaring in the same way.

But there is a part of me that understands the unpopular notions of Chua and that feels that westerners find it hard to listen to easterners because it puts us on the defensive about ourselves. It is a strange and different way of looking at life that challenges our basic notions of who we are.

Amy Chua and her daughters
I know what Chua is talking about and see some value in what she says. I see the difference in the attitude between my Chinese students and the western ones in the university courses that I teach. The westerners have been raised to value independence and self-esteem, and they question authority, which are important qualities that we should encourage. But sometimes the same qualities raise up the barriers of egos and create a battle with authority that gets in the way of learning. There are times when I wish the western students would accept more tiger in their teachers.

But how, as a teacher, do you decide what is right and natural in teaching your students?

As a parent, how do you decide what is right and natural in raising your children? There is so much advice and who really knows?

For an answer I turn to orangutan moms, who have been raising children for millions of years more than the Chinese tiger mom, longer even than we have been a species, and their rain forest children are happy and well adjusted. Orangutans become dysfunctional when human beings interfere with them by separating mother from child and putting them in a sterile environment.

Photo by Shawn Thompson
In the tropical rain forest, the orangutan mom spends eight years with one child teaching that child how to be an orangutan. Without that eight years with the mother, the orangutan becomes dysfunctional and does not know how to socialize, raise a child or survive properly in the jungle.

And orangutan moms are not tigers. (The predators have also disappeared from their forests in Borneo and Sumatra over time. where orangutans are the only Asian great ape.)

Orangutans are patient and gentle, probably more so than the average western parent. They rely on the initiative and curiosity of the child to learn, when the child wants to learn, at the pace the child wants to learn. The child is rewarded by its own curiosity and initiative.

And whether it is genetics or cultural, orangutans have an enormous natural curiosity and a strong desire to observe, learn and do new things. Their curiosity and initiative have not been damaged by the patience and gentleness of their mothers. That is something I find missing in my university students, who want the reward of marks for whatever they do. They basically want to be paid to learn. Such is the society we have created. Scientific studies have shown that the same result happens to the initiative of apes when they are rewarded for doing something. The material reward takes away the initiative to do the thing for its own sake.

It may be hard to believe that orangutans may have some stronger common abilities than we do, and it may be too humbling to human pride to consider that we could learn something from observing orangutans.

One of our limitations is that we think that orangutans are only a biological machine without choice and the ability to think and change as an individual, according to individual differences like us of personality, inclination, temperament and aptitude. We think they are merely dominated by biology. That is a convenient way for us to think and removes some of our sense of responsibility toward a fellow species.

But I saw a remarkable incident at the Taipei zoo that reminded me how much different orangutans are and how considerate they are as parents.

It was a cool, drizzly day in old Taipei. I was standing at the orangutan enclosure at the Wildlife Rescue Center of the Taipei Zoo. Beside me was a smart, intuitive and somewhat romantic keeper named Yang Chiang Lan.

Yang learns by watching orangutans intently and intuiting what they want and need, which is similar to the way he wooed his reptile keeper wife Chiu Zo Jing, even taking a job at the Taipei zoo because he knew she would want to work there someday.

Yang Chiang Lan in the Taipei zoo.... Photo by Shawn Thompson
It took sixteen years to woo his wife, but Yang is a persistent and patient human being, the qualities he also needs to succeed with orangutans, along with flexibility and a sense of humour.

On this drizzly day I made the morning rounds for three hours with Yang of cleaning the night cages and feeding the orangutans. Yang took the time to commune with the German shepherd dogs that protect the zoo animals from wild dogs. Then Yang had time to stand and talk by the orangutan enclosure.

Yang had put out huge banana leaves for the big male Ahyong because he thought the orangutan might be a bit angry that a visitor like me was monopolizing Yang's time that day and upsetting the regular schedule.

But what happened next was expected. We witnessed a rare and remarkable family drama.

The female orangutan Shouquaytow and her son Neanzer were released into the enclosure with the father of the child, Ahyong, after a month-long absence that apparently left the female in Shouquaytow pent up with desire.

The female orangutan Shouquaytow and her son Neanzer... Photo by Shawn Thompson
Shouquaytow was munching on a big banana leaf as she decided what she wanted to do next.

I was talking to Yang through a translator. I told the translator that I felt like an orangutan in Taiwan because I understood none of the words of the language and had to watch the body language and expressions of people to make sense of what was happening.

But we stopped talking when we realized what a miraculous and complex event was unfolding.

Yang squatted by the mesh totally absorbed. He said in all his years at the zoo he had never seen anything like this.

The female orangutan and her two-year-old son had begun vocalizing rapidly back and forth for a few minutes in some kind of intense conversation. They played with each other tenderly by their mouths and fingers.

The male drew closer because of the conversation and the female took the initiative in an obvious attempt to seduce him. She lay back and spread her legs while still holding the child.

Ahyong accepted the invitation without hesitation and dragged Shouquaytow to a quiet corner. He is touchy about being watched by human beings he doesn't know.

But the child didn't like this lovemaking and there was a three-way conversation between male, female and child. 

The child started slapping and pushing against the male, who was strong enough to overpower both female and child, but didn't. Instead of behaving "like an animal," he relented to the discomfort of the child, who was peeing profusely out of stress.

The male, to vent his frustration, went to a corner and pulled and banged on the fire hoses used for climbing.

Meanwhile, the female tried to soothe her child with tender play, but he continued to voice his displeasure.

But the adult orangutans had listened to the child.

The mother didn't get the sex she wanted; the male surrendered his chance for the satisfaction of a romp with a willing partner; and the child prevailed as the cold drizzle fell everywhere in Taipei that day.

The parents had listened to a child who had been raised with the gentleness and patience that an orangutan mother gives. It is a way that orangutans have spent millions of years perfecting without needing to unleash the tiger within.



Feel like more of a chimpanzee mom than an orangutan mom? Check out the poll on this blog site about which kind of ape best matches your personality.

My interviews at the Taipei Zoo were made possible by the kind assistance of Ming-Chieh Chao, the general curator of the animal department. 

I help Yang inside the Taipei zoo.