Brutally Honest Thoughts on Tiger Mom (as a Chinese Mum!) – The Most Controversial Parenting Book EVER
- Ka Yee Meck
- 13 minutes ago
- 6 min read
Think you know what Tiger Parenting is? So did I. I’m a Chinese mum — raised by Chinese parents — and I didn’t want to fall for the pushy Asian parent stereotype, which is why I refused to read the Tiger Mom book for 14 years. But then I finally read it… and OH. MY. GOD. It was not what I expected.
This post is my brutally honest reaction to the parenting book that triggered a generation — Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother by Amy Chua.
Why I Refused to Read It
I assumed I already knew what it was about: a hardcore parenting manual that glorified authoritarianism and upheld every Tiger Parent stereotype out there. But in my last video, where I explored "5 Chinese Parenting Secrets," I referenced the term “Tiger Mom.” And I suddenly thought: hang on. If I’m going to use that phrase, I have to read the book.
So I picked it up.
And… it was NOT what I expected.
Turns out, it’s not a parenting guide at all — it’s a memoir. A brutally honest, sometimes hilarious, sometimes jaw-dropping account of how Amy Chua — a Chinese-American mum and Yale law professor — raised her two daughters, Sophia and Lulu, using what she calls "Chinese parenting," especially in pursuit of excellence in classical music.
And as I read it, I felt a strange cocktail of emotions: admiration, horror, fascination, and deep conflict.
In this blog post, I'll share the top 10 "highlights" from the book and my no-holds-barred reactions to each of them. I go into a lot more detail in the video so do check it out!
10 Moments from Tiger Mom That Shocked Me (or Made Me Think)
1. The List
In Chapter 1, Chua lists things her daughters were not allowed to do:
No sleepovers
No playdates
No school plays
No choosing their own extracurriculars
No grade less than an A
No instruments except piano or violin
My reaction: WHAT THE BEEP?! As a Chinese mum myself, even I was shocked. I get setting high expectations. But this list felt more like a prison sentence than a parenting strategy.
2. Threatening Lulu with Spanking and No Dinner (p. 44)
Lulu resists a prestigious music competition, and Amy responds by threatening her with spanking and withholding dinner. As a mum of two young kids, this was heartbreaking.
To make things worse, she compares Lulu to her older sister Sophia. Cue childhood flashbacks to the cousin comparisons we all grew up with as Chinese children.
Let me say this loud and clear: comparison parenting is NOT it.
3. Calling Sophia "Garbage" (p. 50s)
Chua recalls calling her daughter garbage, just like her own father called her (in Hokkien!).
Her reasoning?
"It worked."
My jaw dropped. This is generational trauma in action. Even if shame can be effective, calling your child garbage crosses a serious line.
4. “Hey Fatty, Lose Some Weight” (p. 51)
This infamous quote had me torn. I laughed because I’ve been that kid. My mum told me to lose weight when I was 10 — and in hindsight, I’m actually grateful she did.
But does that mean it’s okay?
I’m conflicted.
Is this tough love or just… too tough?
5. The Dollhouse Incident (Ch. 11)
Lulu won’t play a piano piece, so Amy threatens to give away her dollhouse, piece by piece.
No meals, no presents, no birthday parties. She even calls her lazy and pathetic.
And then… they cuddle and reconnect. I was horrified and moved at the same time.
I get the message of perseverance. I embrace it, even. But the method? Yikes.
6. Lulu Tells Her Mum to Calm Down (p. 47)
In a powerful moment, Lulu tells her mum to calm down.
She notices Amy’s hysteria and even says, “Just turn off your brain!”
This hit me hard.
Emotional intelligence is something that traditional Chinese parenting often lacks — and something I’ve had to learn as an adult. This moment made me even more committed to breaking that cycle with my kids.
7. Practising on Holiday + Hotel Performance (p. 91)
This one comes from Chapter 14. Amy’s family goes on vacation around Europe, but the girls are still made to practise the piano and violin every single day. Part of me was like, “Come on — let them enjoy the trip!” But then… there’s this beautiful scene where Sophia plays Mendelssohn in a hotel overlooking the Mediterranean, and guests are clapping and hugging her.
That moment made me pause.
Part of me feels like Amy Chua is driven by external validation — the praise and approval of others — which ties into the whole internal vs external motivation debate.
But I can’t deny it. That kind of high you get from achieving something incredibly hard? I do relate to that. Deeply.
Personally, I’d go for a more balanced approach — maybe shorter, less intense practice sessions while on holiday. Actually, this chapter reminded me of something that happened on our own vacation.
We were in Germany with my cousin and her family, and on Day 3 or so, my husband pulled out our kids’ maths and English exercise books after breakfast and said, “Right, time for zanimatsya!” — which means “to study” in Russian. We all groaned dramatically. My cousin turned to me, raised an eyebrow, and said, “Wow. Tiger Dad alert!”
No joke — in our household, my husband is often more of the Tiger Parent than I am, which is kind of ironic.
So yeah… back to the book. I have super mixed feelings. Consistency and discipline are great. They’re a big part of why Chinese parenting can be effective. But there is such a thing as overkill.
8. The Hungarian Teacher Incident (p. 151)
This scene made me LIVID. A Hungarian teacher whacks Lulu on the hand. And what does Amy do? She yells at Lulu for being difficult, for lacking respect for authority figures if the teacher uses actual corporeal punishment!
No. Just no.
Yes, traditional Chinese parenting demands respect for authority — but blind obedience is dangerous. Respect should be earned. Not demanded.
9. The Good Daughter’s Outburst (p. 191)
Sophia, the "perfect" daughter, finally breaks. She says: "Don’t take out your frustrations on me just because you can’t control Lulu."
It was heartbreaking.
The emotional cost of constantly living for approval is too high. This chapter made me reflect on how I talk to my own kids, and how I want them to define their worth — not by achievements, but by who they are.
10. The Caviar Incident (p. 204–205)
A trivial thing sets off one of the most intense scenes in the book.
Lulu won’t try caviar.
Amy calls her a barbarian, bringing shame and morality into the conversation.
Lulu flips and says: “I hate you. You’ve wrecked my life.”
The outburst was epic. And real. And heartbreaking.
But what stayed with me most was Lulu saying: “Just leave me alone.”
That line — oh my god — brought back so many memories of teenage fights with my mum, and my English stepdad stepping in to say, “Just leave her alone.”
Sometimes the most powerful parenting tool is space.
My Ultimate Takeaway
Reading Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother made me deeply question my own parenting values. I’m proud of my Chinese heritage – but I also want to evolve it.
Amy Chua talks about generational decline — how the children of immigrants grow softer and less hungry for success. But what I see, what I feel, is generational trauma.
And I believe it’s time we stopped passing it on.
I want to raise kids who are resilient and capable of doing hard things. But also kids who feel loved, safe, and accepted.
I want to preserve the best of Chinese parenting — the grit, the discipline, the work ethic — without carrying the emotional baggage.
And I think Amy Chua nails it when she writes:
"Chinese parenting does not address happiness." (Chapter 15)
And that’s the crux of it.
What do we really want for our kids?
Achievement? Happiness? Are we conflating the two?
This book won’t give you the answers – and neither will I. But it will get you asking the right questions. And that’s a pretty good place to start.
Watch Next:
If this resonated with you, I think you’ll love my other video:
And if you want to go deeper into parenting, culture, and breaking cycles, make sure to subscribe to my YouTube channel — and let me know your thoughts in the comments below!
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