During the mid- to late-20th century, parents around the world relied on Dr. Benjamin Spock any time their child had an issue that couldn’t be solved with a phone call to Grandma. Dr. Spock’s theories were so popular, he sold nearly 50 million books in 42 different languages, and his parenting book is still in print today.
Growing up in post–World War II Taiwan, my mother most likely never heard of Dr. Spock. She practiced a more traditional Chinese approach to raising us – strict with an emphasis on hard work, high academic achievement at a young age, and excellence in every field.
Yale Law School professor Amy Chua would later describe this traditional Chinese approach to parenting in her 2011 book, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. The concept of “tiger moms” even generated a series of TV programs in Singapore, mainland China, and Hong Kong. Those tiger moms went overboard with strict rules and expectations.
My sons were born in the United States at a time when many mothers were more interested in being their children’s friend rather than strict, hard-nosed disciplinarians. They did things for their children instead of letting them do those things for themselves. This was also during an era when every child who participated got a trophy, and an extended group of adults played a role in raising someone else's children through organized activities and formal play dates.
My husband, Jim, and I didn’t have a large group of adults helping us raise our two young sons when we moved to Miami. Jim was studying to become a doctor. I worked two, sometimes three, jobs. We didn’t have relatives — only colleagues — and money was tight. We raised our sons like my mother raised me.
Other parents often criticized me for being so strict with my children
My mother taught us to learn to do things for ourselves, and I wanted to teach our sons that too. This wasn’t always easy. My children screamed and threw tantrums just like other children did when they didn’t get their way. But rather than run to them and give them what they wanted in the hope that they would stop crying, I let them cry. You know the old saying, “This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you?” It’s true. It hurt to let them cry, but I did.
This hurt, however, was preferable to letting them grow up thinking the world owes them something. If we said it was time to go to bed, sometimes we would hear them crying for longer than we wanted to. But we didn’t interfere by running into their room asking what they wanted. We waited outside their room and were relieved when they finally fell asleep. After they knew the routine, going to bed became easier for all of us.
I was a learn-to-do-it-yourself mom
I taught my children how to do basic things — get dressed, brush teeth, tie shoes, etc. — at an early age. This built their self-esteem. I also taught my sons how to get what they needed, not necessarily what they wanted.
When one of my sons was only 2 years old, he started coming into our room in the middle of the night, asking if he could have a bottle of water or milk. The first time, I showed him how to go to the kitchen, open the refrigerator, and get the bottle of water or milk that was waiting for him inside the door. Then, I let him know how important it was for all of us to get our sleep. The second time, I showed him again, and told him that the next time, he should quietly try to get the drink himself. The next time I heard him climb out of his crib, walk to the kitchen, and open the refrigerator. Then I heard the whole scenario in reverse until he got back to his room and into his bed. Every night after that, I heard him from the other room and waited for him to get back into his crib.
His younger brother learned a similar lesson at Disney World
We were walking down Main Street when he saw a vendor selling popsicles. He asked if he could have one, and I gave him $2 and told him to go get the popsicle himself. He came back empty-handed. I asked for the $2 back. We walked a little farther and Gordon saw another vendor. I gave him the same $2, and he came back without a popsicle. Gordon handed over the money again. The third time he saw a vendor, he took the money, approached the man and said, “May I please have a popsicle?” My son got the message — and the popsicle.
Parents who do everything for their children and give them everything often don’t realize that they may be creating a codependent relationship with them. We wanted to raise our sons to become independent men who could think for themselves and who could stand on their own two feet. We also wanted to develop a relationship of trust with our sons. They trusted us to teach them how to succeed. We trusted them to succeed on their own. And while our approach didn’t make us popular, it worked — and I woudn't have done it any other way.
