Within twenty-four hours of Amy Chua's piece appearing in the Wall Street Journal, no fewer than six people had brought the article to my attention. I completely see why: I myself was once an American-born Chinese kid pressured to excel by my parents. On top of that, I'm also a new mother just beginning to consider how I'll raise my son.
Let me state for the record: I have no intention of becoming a tiger mother. (For those have no idea what a "tiger mother" is, here's a link to Chua's defense of her book and a roundup of responses to the excerpt. And is there space for me under that rock?)
But as I contemplate my son's future -- all I hope he'll be and do and achieve -- I have to admit there's one thing that might wake my inner tiger. If he wants to be a football player? I'll dread his injuries, but I'll buy him a helmet. If he wants to be an interpretive dancer? I'll prepare an apartment in the basement for him, but I'll be at his recitals. Short of the dishonest, the illegal, and the cruel, there's only one thing my son could do that would really disappoint me: not liking reading.
If genes have any influence over personality, I don't have to worry. My husband's parents were both English teachers for decades. My own parents bought me books as treats; our house had books in every room, not just on shelves but splayed on the coffee table, stacked on nightstands, misplaced behind the cushions of the couch. Now that I'm grown up, not much has changed. During our last move, from Michigan to Massachusetts, the movers looked up from packing the seventeenth box of books and asked me, in complete seriousness, if I actually NEEDED all of these books. (I told them yes.)
And if nurture outweighs nature, all signs point to "reader" as well. Before my son was even born, he already had two shelves of books. Our baby registry contained 57 items, 26 of which were books. From birth, we've been reading him Are You My Mother? and One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish and, okay, snippets from whatever we happen to be reading. (All infants like Time magazine and Daily Kos, right?)
But more often than not, my son's attention wanders around page 4. He wriggles through the finer points of Go, Dog. Go! Sometimes, we call it quits with Goodnight, Moon well before "Goodnight mush." So I worry. True, he's only four months old. But I keep wondering: What if my son doesn't like to read?
It's not just because I'm a writer -- though that's part of it. And it's not just because our family is full of voracious bookworms. Of course I want to be able to share what I do -- and what I love -- with my child. But there's more: I am suspicious of people who don't like to read, just as I'm suspicious of people who don't like chocolate, or children, or puns.
Here's why: A love of reading shows curiosity about the world and how it works, whether you're reading a science journal or a novel or a history book. A love of reading shows empathy, the desire to understand how others live or act or might act -- and why. And a love of reading lets you connect with other minds across space and time, exploring similar passions and finding new ones. Curiosity, empathy, passion -- these are all qualities I want my son to have. They'll help him succeed later in life, and they'll also make him a better, more interesting person.
So no matter what he ultimately ends up doing, I hope my son turns out to be a reader. And I'll do all I can to help him become one. I won't threaten to burn his toys, or bar him from playdates. But I'll buy him books as treats. I'll keep on reading to him, whatever he likes, every day, every year. I won't complain if he leaves books in every room: not just on shelves, but on the coffee table, on his nightstand, in the sofa cushions. A tiger mother I may not be. But as a bookworm mother, I'm setting my son up for success better than any tiger mother could.
Andy Kessler: Want to be a Free Radical? Here's How
in some ways books and reading have become holy cows and those who don't or can't read are discriminated agains. in the school system and in life to some degree.
reading as such does not mean that someone is a intelligent, thinking or '' well rounded '' person
I don't at all mean to say that those with dyslexia, or other reading-related disorders, aren't thinking or learning. And of course there are many ways of exploring and learning, all of which are important for those who can read with no difficulty as well as those who have a harder time. But I do think reading offers important things that I'd hate for my son to miss out on--and that many kids who have no problems reading miss out on for no good reason. (For the record, I'll be encouraging my son to learn in as many ways as possible--including through games!--and to just play. But that's another post.)
every year the library here has the '' reading tree '' where children write little reviews for a selection of books and get a certificate for taking part.
most children over a certain age avoid it or sneak around as it is not the cool thing to do.
the cool thing is to disparage reading and learning generally. so sad.
then again it's also sad that society has learning and living seperated the way it does.
we unschool and it's so hard to make people understand what that means.
the divition between learnibg and living is so entrenched.
Anyways, a pleasant article and reading is a wonderful activity. But it's not the only means to those ends.
And while our hypothetical programmer develops his curiosity and connection to others in different ways, I would say that yes, he *is* missing out on something if he doesn't read any books as well! Likewise, a reader would miss out if he or she doesn't exercise other ways of exploring the world. Reading alone wouldn't prepare a kid for life, either. However, there's a huge emphasis on math and science in education today, and while that is certainly justified, reading and all that comes with it sometimes falls by the wayside. The typical Tiger Mother (especially a Chinese one) is far more likely to push her child towards math and science, often at the expense of more imaginative pursuits like reading. And that's an imbalance that is likely to deprive the kid of important things.