Good Grades, Good College, Good Job, Good Life

Enoch Zhu
Writing 340
Published in
6 min readSep 18, 2023

Tiger parenting is a strict and authoritative approach to child raising, which has been prevalent in many Asian immigrant families in the United States. Coinciding with this, many Asian Americans have often been stereotyped as the model minority, characterized by academic excellence, discipline, and success. I’d like to discuss and analyze the intricate relationship between tiger parenting and the model minority stereotype, examining how they intersect and perpetuate one another. Furthermore, the interplay between these two phenomena result in mental health issues including, but not limited to anxiety, depression, identity and cultural conflicts, and perfectionism. This ultimately strips Asian Americans of their autonomy and pressures them towards conforming to the stereotype. These pressures can create a cyclical pattern, compelling Asian Americans to perpetuate the Model Minority stereotype rather than break free from its constraints to develop independence.

A research by Jason Hung of Stanford University suggests that many Asian parents adhere to an authoritarian parenting style, which may be due to cultural values like Confucianism. “According to Confucian values, Hong Kong parents of Chinese cultural heritage should focus on children’s academic success, as academic achievements of the younger generations contribute to a sense of family pride” (Hung). While this has proven the correlation between cultural values and parenting style, there are still plenty of reasons behind the commonality of Asian immigrant parenting styles such as intergenerational trauma, which I’ll also discuss. As I reflect on my childhood and adolescence, I can’t help but to be reminded of the authoritarian style with which my parents raised me. I had little to no autonomy when it came to academics, career choices, or hobbies. It was as if my life’s path had already been meticulously planned out for me by my parents: good grades get you into a prestigious college, a prestigious college gets you a good job, and a good job gives you a happy and successful life. Any deviation from their expectations was met with disapproval and disappointment. The parent-child relationship was hierarchical, with their decisions carrying unquestionable weight. This structure, while intended to provide guidance and support, often limited my autonomy and left me feeling like I had little control over my own life.

A 2018 study on the model minority myth discovered that when Asian Americans internalize the stereotype, they develop increased depression and anxiety (Atkin). The extent of internalization correlates with the setting and environment you’re raised in. The model minority myth loomed large in my household, but it was also intertwined with the source of my parents’ authoritative style, intergenerational trauma. My parents grew up in the rural parts of China, enduring poverty and hardship that left deep scars. Their early life experiences, marked by deprivation and uncertainty, had shaped their views on success and the importance of financial stability. They carried the weight of their past, and their parenting style was a direct response to their own struggles. In their eyes, success in academics and career was not just about fulfilling societal expectations but also about breaking free from the cycle of poverty and hardship that had plagued their ancestors. Their relentless drive and need for control were, in part, their way of protecting me from the challenges they had faced. Consequently, the burden of achieving the goals set out by my parents led to an increased internalization of the model minority myth, which resulted in anxiety and perfectionism I still face today.

After examining the relationship between Tiger parenting and the Model Minority stereotype, we can further analyze how limited autonomy restricts independence and creativity, which discourages Asian Americans from pursuing non-traditional career paths, especially in the arts and humanities. According to The American Academy of Arts and Sciences, “In 2015, the humanities had one of the smallest proportions of Asian/Pacific Islander students completing undergraduate degrees (4.3%), falling 2.5 percentage points below the share for all fields”. Furthermore, in the article “We need more Asian American kids growing up to be artists, not doctors”, Jennifer Lee conducted an interview “with the children of Chinese immigrants, [and] learned that their parents believe that careers in writing, acting, fashion and art are risky because these professions involve subjective evaluation, thereby making their children vulnerable to bias. By contrast, careers in medicine, engineering, law or pharmacy require higher credentials and advanced degrees, which protects their children from the usual types of discrimination” (Lee).

Picture from Grace Li

Through the perspective of these parents, there seems to only be one sure path to success, which consists of the most conservative and high-status professions. The pressure that results from being forced onto this path leads to a variety of mental health issues. The constant demand to excel academically and professionally can lead to anxiety and perfectionism, where individuals may develop a fear of failure. This causes hesitance in exploring non-traditional paths, where financial security and success is riskier to obtain. Consequently, this feeds into the Model Minority stereotype of Asians in STEM and produces the lack of Asian representation in the creative arts. I have personally fallen victim to this as well, in which I have anxiety due to my relentless pursuit of the traditional success path. It’s as if I’m constantly under pressure, in fear of the next step or transitional stage. In high school, I’d worry about getting into a college my parents would approve of. In college, I’d worry about securing a job with a compensation my parents would approve. This leads me to wonder if I, myself, will ever truly reach a point of genuine fulfillment or satisfaction.

Unfortunately, mental health isn’t something Asian families tend to pay much attention to or care for either. Albeit mental health awareness is much more prevalent in modern society, Asian parents still overlook the trauma they have ironically imposed upon their children. A report written by TLMUN Herald highlights how “For Asian parents, making comparisons is a sport. They enjoy comparing their children to others and pointing out their shortcomings. Asian parents believe that comparing their child to another motivates them to work harder so that they can be on par with, if not better than, the other child. Without realising it, they are subtly teaching their children toxic values that, if not managed, could backfire in the future” (Dhaliwal). This is all a matter of mindset and perspective, where the parents make these comparisons because they care, and genuinely just want their children to improve and work harder. In their point of view, this is effective. In reality, this just makes the child feel insecure and unworthy of approval and love, even if their parents do love them.

Photo from USC PAM and APASS

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to deliberately blame the parents or completely victimize Asian Americans who grew up under these circumstances. In the end, we are human beings who just want to be loved and accepted by our parents. Now I see it as a conflict of my parents wanting the best for me out of pure love and me not accepting it as love or care, since I constantly fear disappointing them. In this context, love, care, success, and fulfillment are all subjective and based on perspective. It’s difficult to determine who the victim is or who to blame, but it’s evident that the cycle of Tiger parenting and the Model Minority stereotype is the root of many mental health issues and societal pressures revolving around Asian Americans.

After researching and learning more about this circumstance, I realized I do have the free will and ability to exercise my independence now as an adult. Realistically my parents can’t stop me. However, I’m not sure if that desire to explore outweighs my fear of failure and traditionalism that has been so deeply ingrained into my mindset.

Works Cited

Atkin, A. L., Yoo, H. C., Jager, J., & Yeh, C. J. “Internalization of the model minority myth, school racial composition, and psychological distress among Asian American adolescents.American Psychological Association, 2018, https://psycnet.apa.org/doiLanding?doi=10.1037%2Faap0000096.

Dhaliwal, Balvin. “Asian Parenting: Love or Abuse?” TLMUN Herald, 2021 December 25, https://medium.com/tlmun-herald/asian-parenting-love-or-abuse-99b8a3b66f00.

Humanities Indicator. “Racial/Ethnic Distribution of Bachelor’s Degrees in the Humanities.” American Academy of Arts and Sciences, 2015, https://www.amacad.org/humanities-indicators/higher-education/racialethnic-distribution-bachelors-degrees-humanities#:~:text=In%202015%2C%20the%20humanities%20had,%25%20and%203.7%25%20respectively.

Hung, Jason. “Parenting Styles, Academic Demands and Children’s Psychosocial Well-being: Why Today’s Hong Kong Chinese Students Are So Stressed.” The Journal of Global Health, 2019, https://journals.library.columbia.edu/index.php/jgh/article/view/4854/3889.

Lee, Jennifer. “We need more Asian American kids growing up to be artists, not doctors.” The Guardian, 16 March 2014, https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/mar/16/asian-american-jobs-success-myth-arts.

Li, Grace. Twitter, 2019 January 27, https://twitter.com/gracedli/status/1089562720851161088.

“Debunking the Model Minority Myth.” USC PAM & APASS, https://pacificasiamuseum.usc.edu/exhibitions/online-exhibitions/debunking-the-model-minority-myth/.

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