I Love Me Some Tiger

So if you are a) a mother or b) on facebook or c) listen to CBC radio, you've probably either read the article, or heard its author interviewed.  Amy Chua is crazy smart and possibly just kind of crazy.  But mostly Chinese and a mother. And a Writer too.

What an awesome combination.

Reading the exerpt from her book, it's pretty easy to get to that kind of defensive WTF?! disguised as reasoned criticism: but how do her daughters feel about all this crazyness? But then if you've ever experienced any self-doubt at all about your own parenting choices, fairly quickly the Other Voice pipes up, "I bet she's right."  And then if you're maybe kind of nutty in your own way, you might spend a few days thinking (a bit obsessively) about how to become a Chinese mother, because you know what? You DO value perseverance and excellence and self-respect and accomplishment and damn it, just because you don't really persevere or excel doesn't mean your kids can't....

But then you start reading the criticism in the comments and in other op-ed pieces all over the internet (I liked this one a lot) and then you remember that maybe you do kind of prefer social intelligence and emotional intelligence over piano practice stamina.

And then finally, if you're me, you kind of think about what it's like to be Amy Chua these days.

There's the wonder of being well-read and talked about. I bet her book sales are so happy-making and feed her soul.  I bet every call for an interview adds seven days to her life.  I bet when she was having her make-up fixed for her Today Show appearance, she was thinking, This Rocks.

But then there's the terror of being a mother.  And of believing 90% for sure it's true, that the path you've chosen for your sweet small people is a good one.  And maybe not even just a good one, but The Right One.  There's the watching your small people turn into mid-sized people who begin to edge into just plain People People and thinking, I think this is going to work out.

But that 10%.... that 10% is a little death every day.  At some point during one of those violin practice marathons, a little tiny voice said "You're a moron. You're wrecking her. Quit."  I know, deep in my heart this is true. Second-guessing is what separates us from the dolphins and you can be western or eastern or equatorial - you've got second-guessing sewn into your DNA.  I think they have some science on it somewhere.

Regardless, I think once the camera lights are off, once the interviewer tucks away their iPencil, she freaks right the hell out.

Because she's a mother and she's mostly sure but not all the way sure and then because she's a Writer and she couldn't stop herself, she wrote that shit down and made it sound like she was sure it was True. And it is True. She knows it.

Except for in those moments when she doesn't.  And in those dark, maybe-not moments, Amy and I are sisters.

Good luck sister.