Tiger Moms, the Seduction of School Stereotypes and the Responsibility of Leaders 

By Peter Branch, Head Emeritus, Georgetown Day School and SFLC Sabio 

This year it has been difficult for the head of an independent school to avoid commenting on the latest appeal to the guilt of American parents, a small memoir by the mother of two high achieving girls, Yale Law professor, Amy Chua.  Entitled, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, this tome has been variously characterized as an attack on lax American parenting practices, an example of mindlessly obsessive Chinese educational practices, and a typical story of the struggle between the second and third generations in immigrant families.  Whatever the perspective, this battle hymn struck a cord, or nerve, in the public psyche.  Amy Chua's public persona, her refusal to moderate her positions, gave flavor to the debate.  

At a time when Americans are fearful of a loss of place in the face of a rising China, along came a book which challenges us in our very homes. Chua's demands on her children are calculated to make even the most intense independent  school  mother, or father, feel inadequate.  As parents, secretly we wonder if we could be doing or could have done better by our children.  Just as we stick their college names on our car's rear windows, we carry their failures on our backs. If only we had been more demanding like Amy, would our son or daughter have won that award or gotten that grade or secured that other college placement?  What is our responsibility? Please tell us what to do.

There is an interesting ambivalence in even the strongest defenses of the Tiger Mom.   An extended subtitle on the dust jacket, perhaps added after the first harsh reactions, states: "This is a story about a mother, two daughters, and two dogs.  This was supposed to be a story of how Chinese parents are better at raising kids than Western ones. But instead, it's about a bitter clash of cultures, a fleeting taste of glory, and how I was humbled by a thirteen-year old."  In truth, her struggle with the thirteen-year old began as soon as her youngest daughter was three.  From the start, something in her nature was in opposition to Chua's tough nurture.

It is thus that the old debate about the relative efficacy of nature

versus nurture is once again raised.  Chua advances the advantages of work, of repetition and rote, and of high parental expectations.  At the same time, she cannot help finding genetic sources for her girls' capacities on both sides of their family. (Her Jewish husband, another Yale Law professor, ironically graduated from the most progressive of the schools of which I served as a head.)  But Chua acknowledges that "America changes people."  Her father has become best friends with her non-Chinese husband.  Her mother patiently raised and tutored her youngest sister, Cindy, who was born with Down syndrome rather than place her in an institution.  Consistent with her belief in a strong work ethic, Chuaproudly notes that "Today, Cindy holds two International Special Olympics gold medals in swimming."

It is all too easy to accept stereotyping of groups of individuals.  It is

especially so when a member of that group confirms the stereotype we have believed.  Within every stereotype lies a gleam of truth which gives sufficient shine to the inherent bigotry of the image advanced. However, it is incumbent on us as school leaders to recognize that even "positive" stereotypes lead to negative results.  All Chinese children do not have a gift for or interest in classical music, math or science.  To expect all Asians, even with Tiger Moms, to conform to the myth of the "model minority" is to do a disservice to every individual Asian.  Furthermore, as we know full well, there are plenty of non-Chinese Tiger Moms among our parent bodies.  Some of them might learn something from the second thoughts inherent in Amy Chua's book.  There is truth that families still drawing on the immigrant experience are more likely to make demands on their children than to lay the responsibility for their success or failure on the school.

As independent schools become more diverse in our student and parent populations, as we engage more fully in global studies and exchanges, we will do well to avoid easy assumptions.  Culture is a strong force in the education of all children.  But whatever the culture, Chua recognizes, as we must if we are to be successful with all our students, that "All decent parents want to do what's best for their children."  Listening carefully to even the extreme anxieties and projections of an ever increasing range of parents is an essential 21st Century skill for a school leader.  If we eliminate certain groups from either admission or our affection because they do not fit a certain independent school image, we will become irrelevant.  

Click here to comment on Peter's article. 

Another Model Minority Myth: The Reign of the Tiger Mother 

By Cheryl Ting, Director of Admissions, Redwood Day School

"Western parents try to respect their children's individuality, encouraging them to pursue their true passions, supporting their choices, and providing positive reinforcement and a nurturing environment.  By contrast, the Chinese believe that the best way to protect their children is by preparing them for the future, letting them see what they're capable of, and arming them with skills, work habits, and inner confidence that no one can ever take away." (Chua 63)

In her memoir, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, Amy Chu

The Myth in 1984

a is unapologetic about her glorification of the "Chinese way" when it comes to parenting, even in the face of the challenges presented by her second daughter, Lulu, and her Samoyed pup, Coco.  She brings levity to her narrative by admitting defeat, or identifying herself as the "mean" one or the "task master" standing behind her daughters whilst they practice their respective instruments.  Yet in the end, she concludes that her daughters would not have realized their gifts and achieved such admirable, enviable measures of success had it not been for her vigilance as their Tiger Mother. 

While Chua's ultimate claim is that all parents want to do what's best for their children, her characterization of the Tiger Mother as something honorable, worthy of respect and something to aspire to perpetuates the long standing assumptions about the domineering Asian parent, and the Asian-American family structure.  Where does that leave those of us who may share Chua's ethnic and cultural identity, but do not sit at the alter of her generalized Chinese sensibilities? 

I am the daughter of Chinese immigrant parents, married to a non-Chinese man, and now the mother of two multi-racial children.  Like Chua and her husband who are both lawyers, my husband and I are both educators, and have worked in Bay Area independent schools for the past 17 years.  But the parallels stop here, as our approach to parenting has been one that is defined by an intentional fusion between what Chua defines as "western" and "Chinese" family values.  Granted, I did not find her reflections and conclusions so far fetched, because I know that some of the characteristics of the "Tiger" parent have run through my own family.  However, I found Chua's conclusions extremely polarizing as they inevitably perpetuate a separation of "us" (Asians/Asian-Americans) and "them" (Westerners). 

While Chua concedes that non-Chinese parents can exhibit "Tiger" sensibilities, she consistently asserts the contrast between "American" gentility and laxness around raising children, and the honoring of rugged individualism, with the rote, repetition of practice, and "it's not supposed to be easy" mentality of the Chinese way.  This differentiation preserves the separation between two cultural values that inevitably underlie the ongoing stereotype about the model minority: Asian-Americans as high achievers who excel academically and professionally because of their strict upbringing by domineering parents.  They have no choice but to succeed, and they have fundamentally given "White-Americans" a run for their money.  Additionally, the label of "model minority," sets Asians apart from other ethnic groups, granting us "privilege" over others in an undercutting sort of way.  In fact Asian Americans are no longer seen as people of color and may even be perceived as the new "white" in their invisibility as people of color; this is the blending that others perceive about Asian-Americans, an ideology that represents the deep-seated institutionalized racism in our society that only pits one ethnic minority group against others.

Again, I am not necessarily troubled by Chua's narrative content about her journey through motherhood, because she is entitled to speak her truth about her experience.  However, I am concerned that Chua's presentation serves as an edict for how Asian-Americans have "earned" the status of "model minority," and that this stereotype has no consequences and is something worth embracing. It's the excuse made by her generalization about Chinese parenting that I find worrisome, as it ultimately indicts other kinds of parenting practices and values, creating a hierarchy of one cultural norm over another, and once again, pigeon-holing the "Chinese way" as a "model" for other (more inadequate) approaches to child-rearing.   

Click here to comment on Cheryl's article.  

The Santa Fe Leadership Seminar: A Sojourn of Spirit and Story 

By Dean Fusto    

Dean J. Fusto has spent the past two decades as teacher and administrator in independent and international education. He is currently Head of Upper School and Assistant Head of School at The Bement School, a K-9 Junior Boarding school in Old Deerfield, Massachusetts. He is also a graduate student at Teachers College and Columbia University pursuing an MA in Computing and Education.

School leaders are, by nature, servant leaders. Their desire to lead is rooted in helping people, institutions, and school missions move forward. Yet, it is easy, to become so anchored to the diurnal challenges encountered at school  that they forget to nurture the very essence of what feeds them: their spirit. The unwavering attention to the details: fiduciary responsibilities, strategic planning, trustee meetings, and addressing constituent demands are all an undeniable part of what an effective leader must do. Yet, a career that becomes overly focused on the "do" runs the risk of being truncated by burn out, lack of fulfillment, and the absence of genuine inner joy needed to be an effective visionary.

Recently, I was one of twelve school leaders from independent schools across the country that gathered at the La Fonda Hotel for four magical days in Santa Fe, New Mexico. This was my sophomore experience with the "sabios" of The Santa Fe Leadership Conference. I came to the seminar with clear goals: (1) To end the four day experience a wiser person. (2) To gain additional mentors, friends, and professional connections. More than names to add to a digital rolodex or a Facebook "friends" list, I sought experienced, compassionate, and authentic people whose lives were dedicated to serving others in both a school and life context. (3) To add enduring tools and skills to my leadership toolbox, and (4) To be given time (individually and collectively) to reflect on my practice and personhood. The Santa Fe Leadership experience helped me attain every one of the aforementioned goals, but sometimes the greatest lessons learned are the unexpected ones.

I came to understand the power of stories in our lives. In my two decades of school leadership, I have  heard the echoing mantra that the leader of a school must also be the storyteller of the institution. It is through his or her voice that traditions are contextualized, strategic visions are clearly framed , and the symbolic heartbeat of past luminaries of a school's history are kept alive. The Santa Fe Leadership experience helped me internalize and own the obligation I have to not only be the storyteller, but to take the time to value the stories of others. As I listened to the heartfelt narratives of my colleagues, I was reminded that despite the larger culture's effort to quantifiably measure one's worth in fiscal terms, the true focus should be on the qualitative aspect of our lives. Our stories define us, they are us. Think for a moment of those watershed moments in your own life that transformed your thinking, your way of interacting with others. Have you shared these snapshots with others in your life? Moreover, consider those we lead, teach, and mentor. What are their stories?

In the height of hiring season at my school, resumes arrive at a steady pace via snail mail and email. There was a time when I looked at these documents as a mere chronology of one's achievements, but a resume is much more than this. It is an opportunity to tell the story of a life. I learned this valuable lesson from my mentor and head of school, Shelley Jackson. She masterfully begins every  interview by inviting a candidate to put aside the items on the resume for a moment and take on the role of storyteller. In her welcoming, compassionate, and engaging way she says, " Let's begin by having you tell us what landed you here in my office, seeking a position in this school. Tell us your story."

The Santa Fe Leadership experience was extraordinary. I am still processing and sorting out the profound conversations we all shared over our short time together. I felt as if I was a cushioned pinball bouncing gently from one "a-ha" moment to the next. I realize now (some two weeks after Santa Fe) that what I learned was more than an ephemeral lesson. I was transformed and profoundly moved by the genuine "spirit" of leadership present in our meeting room.  A spirit embodied in the "sabios" and voiced in the authentic stories of my colleagues. Great leaders never lose sight of those colorful characters and significant situations in life that brought them to this present moment. They find revelatory and life-affirming lessons in reflecting upon and retelling their own trials and triumphs. Ultimately, my story is mine alone, but by sharing it, I have the potential to breathe life and inspiration into those that listen.

Click here to comment on Dean's article. 

Summer Seminar Spotlight:  

The Grove

A Framework for Creating and Sustaining School Teams + Practical Visual Meeting Skills - A Mini-Workshop

It's sometimes hard to get everyone on the same page and speaking the same language - even in a small team.  It can help to have a framework and a shared vocabulary to talk about the ups and downs, and the ins and outs of teamwork, which is dynamic and always in flux.

This 3.5 hour mini-workshop will introduce the Drexler/Sibbet Team Performance Model®and get participants started using it to describe their team experiences. The model can be used by school leaders to create and sustain teams, and can also be shared with teams as a common language for their work.

Why Visual Meetings?

 Working visually can help teams see what needs to be done and coordinate their efforts. Workshop participants will get a head start by learning skills to improve flip chart writing and creating visual road maps to keep their teams on track. Participants will practice on real work assignments in small groups.

Most importantly, everyone will have a chance to interact with and learn from one another, and have fun.

What is The Grove?   The Grove Consultants International is known as the Visual Meetings Company and brings 35 years of experience to organizations seeking to envision their future, build culture and innovate. The Grove designs and graphically facilitates meetings, creates Grove Storymaps™, teaches its methodology and sells do-it-yourself facilitation and personal development tools.  Check out  www.grove.com for more information.

Spaces are limited for the Summer Seminar and it is filling quickly. If you are interested in attending, contact Carla Silver

(408) 348-8617 or visit the SFLC Website.

Head's Up Heads: Planning Learning Experiences for Adults
By Timothy McIntire  

Right now is the time to plan learning experiences for those for whom you are responsible, including:

·       Trustees and the Board

·       Chief School Leaders and the Administrative Team

·       Teachers and Grade, Department, and Division Groups

Effective leaders provide intentional, well-planned, and expertly led learning experiences for those they serve.  Wherever you are on the food chain of leadership, seize opportunities for the close of the year and build others for the opening.  Link these retreats to the work of the school - for example, accreditation self-study or visit, capital campaign, new programs, right-sizing, information, global initiatives, compensation systems - and connect one effective learning experience to others strategically organized during the year.  

Remember that just as the teacher's job is to have the student work, so the school leader's job is to organize the conditions for leadership and governance for both employed fellow knowledge workers and for volunteers.

Just as all of us at the SFLC love working with each individual Fellow at our Seminars away from school, we love working with your leaders in the context of your school and are extremely effective in doing so.

Why?  We know through practice every aspect of leadership in schools.  We learn your school's purpose and the culture of your school.  We know best practices and realize that growth is measured from where you are and needs to move somewhere better following an effective learning experience.  We can model leadership and provide viable context for inspiring confidence in school leaders.  

Everyone of us who leads in school knows one great truth: the greater the shared purposes around learning, teaching, and the professional discourse in the culture of our own school, the more powerfully we strive together toward excellence. Learning together is a bond unlike any other.

Conclusion: call on us at SFLC.  We are not-for-profit and more affordable.  You have the laboratory that we need to learn in ourselves.  And we care deeply about affecting the quality of leadership for the benefit, ultimately, of all learners, children and adults.