nebulasparks37 wrote:Well, personally, I don't really believe my parent's parenting skills are the best.
Have any of you read "Why Chinese Parents Are Superior" by Amy Chua?
I did and had to take step back at some of the harshness which most would consider borderline child abuse or neglect. For reference to the others, here's the link:
Why Chinese Mothers are Superior by Amy Chua
I'll include snip from the article itself:
All the same, even when Western parents think they're being strict, they usually don't come close to being Chinese mothers. For example, my Western friends who consider themselves strict make their children practice their instruments 30 minutes every day. An hour at most. For a Chinese mother, the first hour is the easy part. It's hours two and three that get tough.
Amy Chua has a point - China is beating the US at almost everything. Sometimes I think that we need to be more strict on things such as academics.
I used to be an English teacher. Note the tense:
used to be. I am no longer teaching because some parents don't seem to care as much about academics as they care about having a babysitter. I saw two basic kinds of parents (three, if you count the kind who never showed up to conferences at all): the parent(s) who were convinced their child could do no wrong and I ought to specially bend the grading rules for them; and the kind of parents who basically told me that they didn't care what their kids were doing academically as long as they could park them somewhere that wasn't in their supervision for eight hours.
I also saw an alarming number of children, particularly among those from minorities and economically depressed sections of the city, who were simply not allowed to achieve academically. Their parents viewed learning as worthless and a number of them were physically punished for trying to better themselves.
Sadly, most parents no longer seem to think that a good education --- or at least one which will produce a productive adult in society --- is important. Some of those I dealt with proudly told me that they were on state and federal subsistence and they fully expected same for their children when they became adults. Some of the children had picked up that attitude as well. The boys particularly all seemed to think that they could make it into the various professional sports and not need their education at all. Pointing out that those athletes had college degrees and professions to fall back upon didn't help.
I am Native American (Osage, to be exact). That entire avenue of learning and heredity was closed to me. I spent much of my academic career, because the Osage are tall and lighter skinned, being 'one of the white folks'. My mother was more concerned that my skin stay pale and that my hair stay strawberry blond rather than progressing to the rich red mahogany color more consistent with my heritage. I was always attending a string of dermatology and beauty appointments to keep those appearances, not to mention the diets. The Osage are a LARGE people, with some verified records of their men and women being nearly seven feet tall with thick, dense bone structure. She had me on diets from the time I was nine and constantly nagged me about my food intake to the point that I developed an eating disorder.
Academics? I was in
everything: drama club, speech and debate, two bands, choir, art classes. My true interests, reading and writing, were regarded as unacceptable areas in which to excel. I had expressed some interest in journalism but I wanted to proofread articles and help arrange the school paper. My mother took me out of that activity because "I didn't have the body for it". I wasn't allowed to continue my activities with the school radio either, even though I had a passable newscaster's voice.
I don't remember ever having any time for myself.
It was somewhat of a double standard as well. I had a few personally chosen friends she would allow over to play or to do homework or to visit. To these she acted like the perfect mother. There were cupcakes and soda (I never got any). She listened to their problems and advised them. Some of them, who had absent parents, would actually come to her when they were in trouble and she'd help them out --- either go to court for them or give them a place to sleep which was safe. They all thought she was perfect. She was "Ma Wolfe" to them or "Mom". I had to address her as 'ma'am" and the one or two times I'd tried expressing affection, I'd been rebuffed.
I also had care of a younger sister with delayed development. My mother wasn't her mother either, I was.
These are all burdens I still have to juggle as an adult. When I got married the first time, no one in the family spoke to me for almost three years because I was supposed to be the spinster sister, to remain at home and take care of my mother and grandparents. When he turned out to be abusive, it was always my fault. She sent me back to him each and every time with an admonition to be a better wife so he wouldn't hurt me.
Eventually I had to move 2000 miles away from her to make my point. We now have a fairly decent relationship, though if we're together for any length of time she does try to take over my life. I'll admit that my lifestyle is partially the result of this upbringing; I wanted to be anything
but the example she'd set for me. While I've developed the same open heart and good listening skills, I apply them fairly to everyone whom I value (and some I don't, I'm a bit of a sucker).
You'll notice there's no father in this story. My Pa was employed with the US Army in their intelligence division (that's a fancy way of saying he was a spy). He died in a line of duty accident when I was twelve years old. That may have been a factor in my Ma's own behavior toward her children; she never did function as well without him and when he was gone she went to pieces. Her life became about leaving a legacy he'd be proud of instead of valuing us for our own merits.
I do have to say that this man, in the relatively short time he was on the planet, gave me the things I consider best about myself:
- a love of and need to understand other cultures
- a thirst for knowledge and books
- an appreciation of the natural environment (which later led to my religious choices)
- an appreciation for those who serve in the military
- patriotism (not the political stuff, but a true love of my country and its history, warts and all)
- an independent mind and the will to speak it
- a love of the arts
- a love of museums and historical monuments
- a thirst for history, archeology, anthropology and other humanities
- a love of a good debate
- a love of unusual foods and different cuisines
- my love of rose gardens
The other parental figure in my life was my grandfather. He was a civil engineer, a big Swede, and the first in his family ever to go to college. If you're at all curious or have been out west, most of those dam and reservoir projects were designed and overseen by him in their building (that includes Hoover Dam, Crystal Dam, and the Rifle Gap project). He gave me:
- my work ethic (he told me when I got my first job to always go to work with a smile, say 'Yes, ma'am' and 'No, sir' to my bosses, to be willing to do more than just those tasks assigned me, and to take a positive and helpful attitude to the work place)
- my love of puzzles and strategy games
- my interest in aquariums and natural fish habitats
- my interest in fishing
- my Norse heritage (I was the priestess who helped him renounce his Christianity on his deathbed at his request)
- a respect for my ancestors and the dead
- in interest in the truth
I am not now and never will be an 'official' parent. I do what I can for my foster son, who was ripped illegally from our care after just a year (he's sixteen now). I like to think I imparted some of these ideals to him so that he has something by which he can guide his life.
The one thing I would change, I cannot: I do wish my father had not died. I think that if he had not my Ma's and my relationship would not have been as rocky as it was.
