There have been some good articles that have come out about Amy Chua and her memoir. I’ve bookmarked several of them, figuring I’d post one or two here, but nothing is more important than what her own daughter has to say. The author’s eldest daughter wrote an open letter to her mother published in the New York Post. I excerpted my favorite part.
I remember walking on stage for a piano competition. I was so nervous, and you whispered, “Soso, you worked as hard as you could. It doesn’t matter how you do.”
Everybody seems to think art is spontaneous. But Tiger Mom, you taught me that even creativity takes effort. I guess I was a little different from other kids in grade school, but who says that’s a bad thing? Maybe I was just lucky to have nice friends. They used to put notes in my backpack that said “Good luck at the competition tomorrow! You’ll be great!” They came to my piano recitals — mostly for the dumplings you made afterward — and I started crying when I heard them yelling “bravo!” at Carnegie Hall.
Full letter here.
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