Tiger Mom vs. Yiddishe
Mame
Tiberiu Weisz
Reprinted from Asian Jewish Life, #16, 2015
(This is Part
II of how the traditional Chinese education served as the driving force behind
the Chinese Tiger Mom and how the Diaspora shaped the Yiddishe Mame. Part I was
published in Asian Jewish Life # 15)
The rigidity of the traditional Chinese education
and the flexibility of Jewish education came into sharp focus in modern times. In
her book Battle Hymn of Tiger Mother (Penguin 2011) the author Amy Chua, a women of Chinese descent and a
professor at Harvard, married to a Jewish husband, also a professor, created
quite a stir with the way she raised her two daughters. She raised her children
in a fashion that was strict by even traditional Chinese standards. With
seemingly little input from her Jewish husband, Tiger Mom conceded: “even though my husband’s
not Chinese, I tried to raise my two daughters the same way my parents raised
me.” With one slight difference: like sons.
How did Chinese mothers raise daughters in traditional
China? The general rule was that girls had no business learning even the
rudiments of the written language. Chinese sages expressed their views that “Women
without cultured ability are virtue itself.” Nonetheless, clever and
resourceful mothers circumvented this traditional limitation. They taught
daughters directly, focusing on four accomplishments: Virtue, Deeds, Words and
Work. These four goals constituted the general knowledge expected from Chinese
women and wives. Only mothers’
wisdom and cleverness guided the girls to achieve these goals.
Slightly different in method, were the Jewish mothers
who also played similar roles in education. Though the Mishna and Talmud devoted
an entire chapter to the status of women in Judaism, they both relegated women to
subservient roles to their husbands. Jewish sages, like their Chinese counterparts,
had little to say about the education of women, and less on learning. They simply
banned women from studying in heder
(study hall). One of the Talmud sages said that “a girls place is at the spinning wheel”
while another commented that: “If a girl can read a little,
pray a little, then she is a real ‘intellectual’”. Not surprising, both
Jewish and Chinese cultures treated females as another “mouth to cloth and feed.” Their place was to
attend the family and home.
Despite these restrictions, the reality was that
Jewish women were the industrious,
strong willed and the ones who managed the household. On top of that they quite
often established a business of their own to support the family financially. To
their assistance came their daughters who helped both at home and in
business. Jewish mothers greatest concern for their daughters was to maintain
these four accomplishments: chastity, morals, reputation, and virtues. These
attributes also were considered vital for a good match.
Similarly, Chinese
mothers taught their daughters practical things, ideally how to be good wife, a
good mother, and her duties at home were to be obedient, chaste,
hardworking and Confucian. They raised their daughters based on the
Four Virtues: character, appearance, speech and work, the latter referring to
household chores. In addition they were to observe the Three Dependences:
dependence on father before marriage, dependence on husband after marriage, and
dependence on son/s if widowed. Though mothers’ influence on sons was
indirect and subtle, on daughters it was exactly the opposite, direct and in
your face. In either case, mothers’ wisdom mattered: it was deeply rooted in daily life, human emotions in
addition to being practical.
Pragmatism taught both Jewish and Chinese mothers
to excuse their sons from the daily activities, sons needed to study. For a Jewish mother, an accomplished son
was a “learned student and clever businessman” or in the words of the Talmud: “worldly
gain is good and worldly loss is bad.” Or as my mother used to say: “Man makes
money and not money makes the man”. Traditionally, the ideal male role in Jewish family was the scholar, the
diligent, promising yeshiva student. With the exception of
the very young, the very old and the very learned, everyone was expected to
make a living in addition to learning. A Jew without knowledge of the Torah was
considered incomplete, and parents would bend the sky to educate their son. Jews
valued more an educated son than an ignorant priest, as the Talmud said: “Better
a learned bastard than an ignorant priest”. The Torah cemented the Jews together.
The ideal Chinese man was one who passed the
imperial examination and got “degrees and honors” (AJL #15). Building wealth was
the logical outcome of officialdom. Unlike in Judaism where the scope of schooling was for the sake of learning, the
scope in China was
to pursue recognition, honors and social status. As Confucius (c.
551- 479 BCE) said: “Learning without thought is labor lost; thought without
learning is perilous.” Chinese believed earnestly that history repeated
itself and learning the past was the key to the future. Those
who mastered the ancient tradition of writing and passed the examinations became
officials who were to shape the course of China, a trait that is still prevalent
in China today. Those who failed to attain a degree were often disillusioned
and turned to teaching, to assure a steady “rice bowl” (income). And those who
went into trade or business had a very rudimentary education, far below the
required standard. Farmers and craftsmen had nothing to do with schools.
Both Jewish and Chinese mothers took an active role
in “guiding” their sons towards success. But success was defined differently in
the two cultures. Beginning with birth, a newborn Jewish child developed a special bond with the
woman who attended his mother at his birth, usually a midwife. That bond
followed the child throughout life, and manifested itself in visits giving her
gifts while she participated in all the festivities and celebrations of his
life. The midwife called the
children she delivered “her babies.” And the community called her di Bobeh (granny in Yiddish). While di
Bobeh influence smoothed the rough social edges of the young man, the
mother created an environment to influence his upbringing by taking care of his
daily needs and comfort.
A similar tradition was in China. Beginning at birth, Chinese mothers relied on the centuries old
superstitions called Old Mothers
Encyclopedia (Mama Da Chuan). It
was an unofficial guide to new mothers orally transmitted only and never ever in
print. One of the most common superstitions made Chinese mothers very choosy as
to who should be the first person let into the room after the baby was properly
cleaned and wrapped? Auspicious was if a clever/smart boy came in and performed
the ceremony called of cai sheng or
“stepping on the birth” hoping that the new boy baby would be smart too. This
superstition was not practiced with baby girls.
Cultural beliefs as such bound mothers of the
two cultures and it reflected in their names. A Jewish mom was called Yiddishe Mame,
a Yiddish word with East European roots
that radiated an overprotective mother with endless self -sacrifice. A Chinese
mother was called huma
or Tiger Mom a Chinese term that described an overambitious
mother who raises her children in the strictest of strict discipline. The term is
often synonymous with fierce ambition to help her children conquer, overcome
and finally to succeed in professional life. Only recently did this term come to
the attention of Westerners with the publication of Amy Chua’s book. Both
the Yiddishe Mame and Tiger Mom strived for the same goal, to nurture the child to adulthood, to make him a mentsh, “a man as a man” in Judaism and a ren, “a man above man” in China.
Mentsh is a Yiddish term that means to attain the status
of an accomplished human being, a whole person, a real adult with all the
responsibilities and obligations. A Yiddishe
Mame was proud if sons did well in secular schooling but prouder if they could
also recite a passage from the Torah to their father. Schooling was important, grades and outside activities were
secondary to Jewish learning. Jews
pursued learning with no
specific goal in mind, it was for the sake
of learning. Yiddishe
Mame’s greatest joy was to
see her sons performing the mizvot (good
deeds) for the sake of mizvot, culminating
in being recognized as mentsh in his
community.
Ren is the most basic character in the Chinese language, literally means,
“man”, yet its meaning changes significantly in context. Chinese sages
struggled with the question of “How
can one become a man [and benefit
from it]?” (qi neneg wei ren 岂能为人). Some defined ren (man) as: “Rites and righteousness are what
makes a man above other ren.” Others as “the fulfillment of all filial duties and social obligation,”
while modern interpretations offered some context “to be not as an ordinary person but as a ren, a man above man in society at large.” Each of these
definitions carried their connotations. The first was to fulfill the ceremonial and public obligations;
the second emphasized the obligations of children to parents, family and by
extension the country. The last one came closer to the meaning of mentsh in Judaism, but not quite.
http://www.asianjewishlife.org/pages/articles/AJL_Issue16_June2015/AJL_Issue16_Feature_Tiger-Mom.html
The definition of ren contained an inherent difference
from mentsh. Just as ma nishtana differed from the Chinese how can I know [to gain from it] (see AJL #15), so did mentsh complement ren, just as yin and yang. In Judaism, a mentsh grew up in a classless society with allegiance to a code of conduct
of an invisible and immortal deity called God. Every Jew was required to read
the Torah (Law) or His words. That
by itself required a basic education to each and every Jew, herein the name
“people of the book.” In addition, each individual was in charge of his
destiny, and every individual male Jew was equal both in the eyes of the Torah
and in the community.
Not so in China. A ren grew up in a traditional class
conscious society composed of junzi
,” gentlemen” representing the ruling class and the xiao ren “the little people” or commoners. The junzi included the nobility, and by virtue of social mobility also
the “mandarins” who acquired their status through education. At the head of this social pyramid was the
Son of Heaven (emperor) who was considered a deity in China, but a mortal human
being by Jewish standards. The xiao ren
“commoners” were the masses, either with a rudimentary education of shu yuan, (book halls, see AJL #15) or
not educated at all. Subsequently the junzi
were privileged and often above the law while the commoners were subject to the
law. Such a social distinction highlighted the unbridgeable gap between the class-conscious
ren and the classless Jewish mentsh.
Tiger Mom brought this distinction into sharper
focus. Initially she thought
that perhaps a traditional upbringing with a modern education could combine the
Chinese ren, “a man above man” with something like the Jewish mentsh. But first she
had to face the low status of women in the traditional Chinese hierarchy. She skillfully
weaved the Three Dependencies with modern Western education, and treated her daughters the same way as she would have treated
sons. Her daughters were expected to attain the highest achievement in the
field of study, or rather in the mother’s field of choice. The daughters had no
say in their upbringing, only mother’s ambition mattered. In addition, she taught
her daughters that the traditional Chinese values for girls: Virtue, Fate, Fengshui, Confucianism (religious
merits) and Dushu (reading) could
enhance their aspiration to succeed, but they had to aim higher than that to their
highest potential. If an artist, be an accomplished artist, recognized in the
field. If a scholar, be an academic with the highest-ranking schools. If
married, be a ren first and only then
follow the traditional Chinese values for wives.
Trying to weave the concept of ren with the Jewish mentsh offered insurmountable challenges. Simply put, though they
complemented each other, they did not mix. Yiddishe
Mame saw her responsibility for the total physical way of
life of a “real Jew.” Her rules were more flexible, more in sync with real life
situations. She made sure that the
dietary laws were observed, that the food was kosher, milk and meat were
separated, and that she kept the family harmony. Disciplining a child was more a reflection of the
domestic climate, rather than the offense. Tiger Mom on the other hand applied
the traditional upbringing for sons to raise her daughters “if
you expect the child to be healthy, you must allow him thirty percent of hunger
and the same percentage of cold. Experience has taught parents that if you give
him too much to eat and too much to wear the child gets indisposed through the
faults of the parents.”
Puzzling however was the limited Jewish education of their
daughters. “Bat Mitzva was Jed’s [her
husband] terrain,” said Amy Chua. The daughters “read from the Torah seamlessly
at Bat Mizva,” and the father “also
approved the choice of ’Hebrew
Melody‘ for violin at his daughter’s Bat Mitzva
recital.” But beyond this, their Jewish upbringing was secondary. Tiger Mom followed
what she knew best, the traditional Chinese Way that was handed down to her
from her great, great, great… grandfather, the royal astronomer appointed by chief
military staff in 1644. She imposed harsher rules to her daughters even by Chinese standards.
Her rules:
“School work always came
first
An A- minus is a bad grade
Your children always must be two years ahead of your classmates …
You must never compliment your children in public
If your children disagree with a teacher or coach, you must side
with the teacher or coach
The only other activities your children should be permitted are
those in which they can eventually win a medal
That medal must be gold.”
In other words, no boyfriends, no sleepovers. Total respect for
parents; daily drilling in math and Chinese from early age; and speaking
Chinese at home. In addition there were daily school homework, hours of music
practice, and reading. Expectations were so high that any grade below an “A”
would invoke additional discipline. Her daughters went
through the “ten years of ku, or bitterness. As the Chinese proverb says: “To be a man above men, you must endure the bitterest of
all bitterness.”
Such expectations were contrary to the aspirations
of the Yiddishe Mame. Learning
was just part of becoming a mentsh and
wealth was a close second, though due to the economic and historical
circumstances the two became contenders to higher social recognition. The ideal
mentsh was learned in the ways of the
Torah, generous and interacted easily in the community. Wealth was not
necessary, but it certainly elevated the status of a mentsh. A learned man automatically belonged to the recognized
status no matter how poor he was. Similarly, a wealthy men with little learning
also belonged to the recognized class provided he used his wealth in accordance
with the law of the Torah, and donated generously.
Tiger
Mom justified her strict disciplinarian methods by pointing to the success of her
daughters. They became accomplished academics and musicians according to the
traditional Chinese Way. They became scholars, and successful in their own
rights. The daughters attained the social standing, recognition and honors in the
fields that Tiger Mom carved for them.
They endured years of ku (bitterness)
to become “men above men” in Chinese
eyes. With the addition of two Jewish traits, that of generosity and
interaction in the community, they could have also become mentsh in Jewish eyes.
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Tiberiu Weisz is a Sinologist and a scholar of China and
Judaism. He is the author of The Kaifeng
Stone Inscriptions (2006) and The
Covenant and the Mandate of Heaven (2008) available on Amazon, and his
articles have been published worldwide.
