That was not my response today when someone asked if I was a Tiger Mom.  My immediate response was to say, “No, I’m not a Tiger Mom.” After the conversation, I researched what it meant to be a Tiger Mom. Apparently, I’m behind the times and while I’m a voracious reader, I have not read Amy Chua’s book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, in which she describes how Chinese parents are better at raising successful children than Western parents are.

First, while I am Asian, I’m not Chinese. I’m Vietnamese. Whew! Just needed to make that clear on the front end.  Second, I’m not even going to sit here and argue whether the premise of her book is true-whether Asian parents are better parents. (I’m not going to enter that discussion until I’ve read the book.)

The question about whether I’m a Tiger Mom arose because someone at work found out that my daughter is in a gifted program at school.  Yes, she’s five, and she has been part of the program since she was four.  I understand how that can sound a bit suspicious. I’ve heard it all. “Why don’t you let your daughter be a kid?” “Can you really determine whether she’s gifted at age four?” “Don’t you think that’s a bit elitist?” So on and so on.

Yes, we filled out a lot of paperwork and received feedback from teachers and parents. Yes, she was assessed by a child psychologist, and the determination was made that she qualified for the program and had some gifts in the area of linguistics. Yes, she attends the gifted program twice a week with first and second graders that have also qualified for the gifted program.

Why does that make me a “Tiger Mom?” I didn’t push my daughter to do anything. My husband and I explained the process and what it meant to attend these different classes, and she made a choice to go.  She can choose to opt out at any time. I recognize that people don’t think a five-year-old is capable of making that choice, but she can.

Do I want her to excel in academics? Absolutely.  There’s no question that I highly value education. I’d be a professional student if I could, but I don’t force her to focus on academics at home to the exclusion of other experiences in life. She has sleepovers and other extracurricular activities-activities she chooses. I don’t force her to play the piano or violin as Amy Chua describes as the only music lessons permitted for her children.  But the reality for my daughter is that while she adores playing with the kids in her kindergarten class, her mind is capable and hungers to learn more, know more, understand more. I love when she comes home and tells me she’s learning deductive reasoning and research techniques.  I love that she struggles with the challenging work at time. I’d take that over her three-year old self that used to hate going to daycare because she was bored out of her mind!

I doubt my co-worker meant any offense.  She probably was just seeking to understand.  I’d rather she have asked me than to continue to think I am a Tiger Mom who pushes my child to succeed at the cost of her self-worth.

I know I lost points, though, when she asked whether I’ve ever played any instruments.

Ummm…yes, yes I have. I played…er…the piano and…er…the…ummm…violin.

Hey, I said I wasn’t a Tiger Mom.  I never said I didn’t have one…