In
January of 2011, Harvard grad and Yale law professor Amy Chua published her
now-famous book, The Battle Hymn of the
Tiger Mother. She was promptly eviscerated
in the press for her “harsh” treatment of Western parenting. Having read the book, I don’t think Mrs. Chua
was asking anyone to embrace the Asian model, which seems to lack grace. But we do well to consider Mrs. Chua’s
reproach of our soft Western model. The
author makes a poignant observation that Western parents “presume weakness of their children.” That intrigues me. I hope that these few points, stemming from
that simple observation, will be thought-provoking to parents and sharpen us
all in our efforts.
1. Presuming weakness means training our
children in the art of “victim-hood.”
The purpose of understanding our quirks and idiosyncrasies ought to be
to enable us to overcome, not avoid, hardship. I once corrected a student at church for
behaving wildly, and she responded, “That’s because I forgot to take my medicine.” Instead of enabling her be a stronger person,
her knowledge of all her ailments (and she was well-versed) only enabled her to
supply an excuse whenever she behaved poorly.
It was always the medication’s fault, or her lack of sleep, or the busy
schedule, or the way a teacher at school was treating her. This casting off of responsibility tends to
follow people into adulthood. While it
is beneficial to understand how our minds and bodies work and how we can help
one another, maybe it isn’t serving our children so well to remind them of their
“list” of disorders.
2. Presuming weakness trains our children in a
lie. By intervening too quickly when life throws
curveballs to our kids, we communicate to them, “You can’t do this without me.” Many times our children really could reach
higher and surprise us, but being handled with “kid gloves” leaves its mark on
a child’s mindset.
Do you join your child’s side too quickly
when they complain of being “mistreated,” or do you encourage them to face
their offenders with courage and charity?
The motto for young children is, “Never do for a child what he can do
for himself.” Maybe a good motto for
parents of older children would be, “Never do for an older child what you once did
for yourself.” Wading through the inconveniences, hardships,
and waiting-periods of life is more than just a “cross we all must bear.” It’s a strength-building
process. Don’t rob your kids of
their life lessons—no matter how old they are.
3. Presuming weakness sets expectations for
adult life that are unrealistic.
Kids who grow up being defended grow up expecting to be pitied.
It’s always the boss’s fault—or the unfair policeman, or the “system.” Victims
crave assistance; leaders crave autonomy.
“The slothful man saith, There is a lion in the way; a lion is in the
streets.” (Prov. 26:13) Sluggards think they have uniquely hard lives
and impossible challenges; leaders accept their lot in life and work through
the trials patiently. We ought to listen
to our children: Do they think they have
a harder life than most people? Are they presuming that they are weaker than
the challenges that lie before them, or do they accept the inequities of life
and convey an “I can do all things through Christ!” attitude? (Philippians 4:13)
4. Presuming weakness is our temptation toward
the baby of the family. Let me
be transparent: It’s a bit uncomfortable
for me to review the way I parented my older children vs. the way I find myself
parenting the “baby” these days. When
Jonathan and Jessica were four, they were the oldest of four children. I had a toddler and a newborn, and there simply
wasn’t time to spoil the twins. Although
they were not perfect, they learned how to dress themselves, put on their own
shoes, and sit with a book and wait for me to get the babies ready. They ran errands around the house, answered
the phone, cleaned up their own messes, kept an eye on the baby while I got
ready, and were expected to behave in church.
Thirteen years later, it’s easy for me to forget that Josh should be
doing those things as well. Instead, I’ve
changed a few of my own rules and bent in favor of Josh’s weaknesses. It’s just easier to ask one of the older kids
to “help him pick up his train set” or to get his shoes and jacket on. I suspect that he really believes these are hard jobs that can only be
accomplished by teenagers! And why
shouldn’t he believe that way? Now we
have the unpleasant task of “un-brainwashing” him. It would have been easier if I had presumed
strength of him (and of myself!) early on instead of taking the easier
road.
So
thanks to Mrs. Chua for pointing out an unpleasant truth that we would not
likely have admitted without her help.
Now to fix the problem!
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