Model Minority & Tiger Parenting: The Mental Toll

The first month or so of my undergraduate junior year went accordingly. After switching majors to neuroscience, I tackled intro classes such as general chemistry and calculus 2. As expected, I kept up with my schoolwork and received grades that were on track with my GPA goal of at least a 3.7. All was well. 

I thought I had gotten accustomed to university; juggling school with a part-time job, volleyball, professional fraternity, and Chinese Students Association. With 2 years of experience under my belt, this was supposed to be a piece of cake! However, the coursework was a lot more demanding than before. I found it harder to juggle my responsibilities. During calculus discussion, the teaching fellow handed back our weekly quizzes per usual. 

3 out of 6 points. 

My body immediately tensed up when I saw my grade. This was the first time my quiz grade dipped below my usual 6 out of 6. 

“This is unacceptable,” I thought. Waves of disappointment and frustration instantly swept over me. How could I let myself slip like this? I needed to reach that 3.7 GPA I set for myself, and I couldn’t afford grades like this. My solution resulted in studying well into the late hours of the night for multiple nights in a row. 

I vaguely recall hitting the snooze button absent-mindedly when it started ringing. 

However, I quickly drifted back to sleep, and… 

Suddenly, I opened my eyes and whipped my head toward my alarm clock: 10:10 AM. 

“FUCK!” I overslept for my 10 AM class. Even if I got ready in under 10 minutes, it would still take 10 minutes to walk to my hour-long class. After contemplating my options, I reasoned that I should save myself the embarrassment of arriving 30 minutes late and skip class. The waves of disappointment and frustration in myself washed over me. Again, I punished myself by dedicating more late-night hours for my studies. It was a downward spiral from there on out. The more I sacrificed my sleep to study, the harder it was to wake up. The more I overslept my classes, the more ashamed I was of myself. Instead of benefitting from this extra studying, it dug me in a deeper hole from all the missed quizzes and work from my absences. 

Not only did it affect my grades, but it also affected my mental health. I ended up drowning in feelings of hopelessness and despair. All throughout my life, I felt like everyone held such high expectations for me. “You’re Asian, of course you’re going to do well on the test,” my high school peers would say to me. “If you don’t get an A, it means you didn’t work hard enough,” my dad would sternly scold me. “Your cousins are doing great at college. Don’t embarrass us,” my mom would exclaim to me after talking with family back in China. The only way to achieve success by societal and familial standards seemed to be through academics. For the first time in my life, I felt like I lost control of my ability to achieve this success. In my mind, if I couldn’t reach the expectations, it was an automatic failure. I failed at the one thing everyone in my life deemed I was supposed to be good at. 

These feelings were triggered partially by the high academic expectations I had for myself. However, I found myself asking several questions: Why did I feel such immense pressure to attain these academic goals? Why did I respond so badly to my failure to meet my goals? I thought back to the factors that influenced me to feel like I needed to do well: my peers and my family. To my peers, being Asian American meant that I should be getting good grades. This aligns with how American society often attributes the “model minority” label to Asian Americans. This label describes a minority group that has achieved great academic and career successes due to their hard work. The portrayal of Asian Americans as a “model minority” arose from various historical and societal factors. This notion, along with the strict and rigorous parenting style I grew up with, coined as “tiger parenting”, both contributed to the mental distress I was facing. Thus, I decided to delve into how the ideas of a “model minority” and “tiger parenting” impact Asian American mental health. 

We can start looking at the stereotype of Asian Americans being a “model minority” by examining the societal impacts through a historical lens. Although this term propagated in 1966, various immigration acts enacted a century before established racial precedence toward Asians in America. In the mid-1800s, the majority of the Asian American workforce consisted of Chinese laborers, such as railroad workers, factory workers, and agriculturalists. They often worked for lower wages than their Caucasian counterparts. This caused much resentment and anti-Asian sentiment amongst white Americans. In order to alleviate these tensions, the U.S. government passed a series of acts that restricted much of the immigration from Asia. Some of these acts included the Page Act, Chinese Exclusion Act, and Immigration Act. When these acts were lifted, highly-educated Asian professionals, such as doctors, scientists, and scholars, were given immigration priorities. This shift in the Asian American workforce planted the seed of their overnight success story.

During World War II, many Japanese Americans were uprooted and incarcerated based on their race shortly after Japan bombed Pearl Harbor. American media released racist propaganda during the war to fuel public outrage against the Japanese, instilling anti-Japanese sentiment. Needless to say, the war’s racism and negative outlook on the Japanese made it difficult for the Japanese Americans to integrate back into American society after being isolated to internment camps. However, William Peterson published an article in The New York Times Magazine titled “Success Story: Japanese American Style” in 1966. This is where the “model minority” term originated. Peterson highlighted how even with the discrimination and prejudices they faced, the Japanese Americans achieved success, and he attributed their “model minority” status to their hard work. His article sparked a cascade of similar publications about Asian American success, further reinforcing the “model minority” stereotype.

Nowadays, the “model minority” term describes a minority group that achieves high levels of educational and financial success due to their hard work. Specifically, it’s used to describe Asian Americans. Previous studies have shown that Asian Americans tended to perform better academically compared to their non-Asian counterparts based on factors such as GPA and SAT scores. 

The seemingly positive attribute of the “model minority” label may have more of a negative impact than it seems. Jealousy and resentment against Asian American academic success result in negative attitudes toward them by seeing them as "nerdy" and "antisocial". An Atlantic article highlights the professional burdens Asian Americans face due to racial discrimination. For example, it may be harder for Asian Americans to secure management jobs due to the view that we are passive and submissive. Research has shown that these particular racist views and racial discrimination negatively impact Asian American mental health. A more recent study also confirms these findings by showing that racism-related stress was related to poorer mental health when looking at depression, anxiety, and interpersonal sensitivity. Within the last decade, studies have shown that this label may actually contribute to Asian Americans being less likely to seek professional health services. Only around 8.6% of Asian Americans reported seeking mental-health related services compared to around 18% for the general population. 

Familial influences may also be an important factor to consider when it comes to Asian American mental health. While the perspective of Asian Americans achieving higher academic performance was already in place, another perspective of stricter parenting also formed. Many studies in the late 20th century depicted Asian parents as stricter and more authoritative than their non-Asian counterparts. The merger of the two perspectives resulted in a particular view that the strict parenting style pushes children to achieve higher levels of academic and professional success.

This newly formed view of Asian parenting styles was eventually labeled “tiger parenting” by Amy Chua in her memoir Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. Chua also claimed that her children’s successes were due to her strict parenting style, and she emphasizes the effectiveness of this style. Often, Chua and other Asian parents place emphasis on academic success and parental control, even at the expense of their children’s personal desires and happiness. This heavily contrasts the parenting style of European Americans, who tend to focus more on their children’s self-esteem, independence, and well-roundedness.

Are most Asian American parents set on this strict method of parenting? Is this method of parenting more effective? In a study investigating 1st generation Chinese immigrant mothers’ perceptions on Chinese versus American parenting, the mothers admitted to using harsher methods of discipline. They believed it is the parents’ responsibility to discipline their children. However, unlike the ideology Chua presented in her memoir, this study showed that most mothers believed that they should not completely adhere to the traditional Chinese methods of parenting while in America. They advocated to attain a coexistence between the ideologies of both Chinese methods of parenting and U.S. methods. Regarding the effectiveness of tiger parenting, many studies have been published debunking the idea of its effectiveness. One study demonstrated that less supportive parenting styles created alienation, depressive symptoms, and poorer academic performance between Chinese American children and parents. The results of these studies suggest that the stereotypical tiger parenting style that Chua outlined may not be the best for Asian American children’s mental health. Finding a balance between both culture’s parenting styles may be more effective and positive.

I, too, agree with the importance of finding a balance. My parents certainly fit the description of stereotypical tiger parents; they made me complete math workbooks in my spare time, practice hours of piano each day, etc. They had little tolerance toward poor academic performance. If standards were not met, it would result in completing more work, digging into the little social life I had. Furthermore, I did not have much say in my decisions; I played piano because they made me play, not because I enjoyed it at the time. I agree in the sense that this parenting style is rather oppressive. In my case, this parenting style caused a more strained relationship between me and my parents. It factored into me having low self esteem as a child. However, I do think that this parenting style helped with establishing strong value in education and discipline. I also believe that once my parents and I gained a better understanding of each other’s culture, our relationship improved exponentially. My experience leads me to believe that increased understanding between both sides can help improve mental health amongst the Asian American population.

Looking back to my undergraduate years, I tried to mold myself into a certain standard of success. This success has been placed upon Asian Americans by the "model minority" myth created by American society throughout history. Tiger parenting further reinforces this pressure on us. When these two externalities are combined, it creates this unnecessary pressure to live up to a standard that's not our own. The battle between being who you are versus who you're supposed to be exacts a mental toll within all of us. By understanding that success is not defined by these external factors but rather our own, it can alleviate this mental toll that many of us experience.