My Half Tiger Parents

“If you can’t guarantee us that you will get accepted into the physics or chemistry departments of National Taiwan University, you must quit your band right now!” my father yelled at me — when I was at the age of 16. “Can you bring bread back to your family by playing your stupid drums?” he added.

I was mad and frustrated then, but now I am grateful about what he said to me at that time. Their tiger parenting turned out to benefit me a lot, because they were not that kind of purebred tiger.

Amy Chua’s book, “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother” described how she raised her two daughters, and how successful her kids turned out to be. Chua said tiger parents always presume the best options for their children and force them to follow the path they decide. They also don’t care about children’s self-esteem and scold them for not reaching their expectations. There has been much discussion about her story, and a lot of them are opposing her parenting philosophy. My parents were tigers to me and my elder sister, but slightly different, as hybrid tigers. They presumed the best path for me and pushed me to do it, but allowed me to detour as long as I had a promising plan; They not only scolded at me when I failed to meet their expectations, but also made me make commitments by using reverse psychology.

When I was a kid, before senior high school, there was not much difference between what my parents wanted me to do and the wants of traditional Asian parents: play the piano and rank top three in my class. Their additional expectation for me was to speak a foreign language besides English — French.

I didn’t question them about why I should learn piano instead of harp or xylophone, I just went to the piano tutor and practiced an hour every day as requested. My mom would set up a timer that looked like a blue flower, and when the timer rotated 360 degrees it made a loud noise telling my mother that now I could play computer games. After several years of lessons, my teacher wanted me to take the piano grading test, but I didn’t want to. Now here’s the difference between tiger parent and a half-tiger parent. My mom did make me learn stuff, but once I called for a stop, she wouldn’t force me.

After the first Basic Competence Test for Junior High School Students, which is the SAT in Taiwan, I found myself placed into the second best senior high school in Taiwan. But my mom asked me, “How can you be satisfied about that?” So I gave up my week-long trip with my friends to the beach in southern Taiwan, and my parents paid the tuition for a cram school to prepare for the second test. I had to go to the cram school seven days a week for 90 days, and stayed there from 8 a.m. to 9 p.m. every single day while some students were already enjoying summer vacation.

After one and a half months of torture, I scored 296 out of 300 and got accepted into the best senior high school in Taiwan. I didn’t know at the time that it would turn out to be one of the most important things that affected my life.

During my senior high, I joined the rock music club of my school, which was one of the best rock clubs among all the high schools in Taipei. Although I picked the drums, the knowledge of basic music theory that I had learned from my piano teacher helped me a lot when coordinating with bass, guitars and keyboard. My friends always made compliments about my drum skills after performances, so it really gave me a sense of achievement while playing the drums. This sense of achievement made me believe that I can accomplish any goal, and it built up my confidence that benefited my whole life.

To spend more time on my favorite drums, I asked to stop my French classes and my parents agreed. I skipped classes at school, left home early and got back home late every day just to rehearse with my band. I started to spend less time with my family on the dining table, and it was my routine for a year.

Two weeks before the scheduled last performance of our band, my father couldn’t stand my indifference to the family and shouted at me one day when, as usual, I had gotten home late. “Do you still care about this home, or is this just your hotel and your mother and I are just your ATM?” He screamed at me with a fierce look on his face for at least ten minutes, and I kept my head down until I noticed that he was giving me an offer that other tiger parents wouldn’t. He would let me play the drums as long as I guarantee admission to the department of physics or chemistry in the future.

“What’s hard about that?” I shouted at my father, without even knowing that the department of physics of NTU ranked number two in all of Taiwan’s department at that time. Playing in the band was the only thing that made me happy, and I couldn’t imagine giving up playing the drums with my band.

Now looking back, I didn’t like what my parents made me do and what they tried to stop me from doing at the time, but they built a firm path to where I am right now.

Were it not for taking the second Basic Competence Test, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to join the rock club in my senior high school.

Were it not for learning to play piano in advance, I wouldn’t have had so much passion to play drums in my band that built up my confidence.

Were it not for my father’s fierce warning, I wouldn’t have pushed myself to the limit and pursued the best university in Taiwan.

Furthermore, were it not for their vision to make me learn French, I wouldn’t have had the ability to go to Paris as an exchange student.

To be honest, I have to attribute most of my success to my parents. I really hope they write a book about parenting, so that pure-tiger moms and dads can learn when to believe children’s decisions; western parents can learn that ruling with a rod of iron sometimes is compelling. I will be the first one to buy that book and apply all of the techniques on my kid.