Notes of a Native Tiger Son, Part 1
This post was written by Oliver Wang, who was guest-blogging for Ta-Nehisi Coates.
Don't worry. This isn't a post about Amy Chua's Battle Hymn of a Tiger Mother ... not exactly. For one thing, Julianne Hing thoughtfully explored that ground last week and I have no interest in revisiting the arguments of the book.
For another, like most of you, I'm completely over debating the parental philosophies espoused in Chua's book and at this point, but more interested in exploring the overwhelming reception that's followed it.
Before I get there, let me lead with this:
It's a weird time to be Asian-American.1
Up until recently, we've had to contend with being a relatively As a result, throughout my childhood—and most of my adulthood—we mostly contended with a slim parade of different, sometimes contradictory, caricatures: lotus blossoms and dragon ladies, math nerds and martial artists, refugees and gang-bangers. Ad nauseum.
