new tiger in town

claws retracted, harvard livin'

2012-03-12T00:29:00.000-04:00

...after that banshee fit, I should probably tell you what classes I'm taking. So, as I've mentioned, I'm in intermediate Chinese for heritage speakers, which is a nice way of saying Chinese for Chinese Kids Who Can't Read Good. I'm also taking my required Expository Writing class, the topic of which is "Imagining Animals." I thought it was going to be about krakens and stuff, but actually we read seminal philosophical works about intersubjectivity and other big words. My third class is American Foreign Policy. And finally, I'm taking Life and Death in the US with Dr. Christakis, whom you may have heard of. He's a great speaker (you can actually watch all his lectures online). The class revolves around a couple big ideas, like whether people's health depends more on individual choices (i.e., the foods you eat, whether you smoke, how well you take care of your body) or structural factors outside of personal control (i.e. the health care system, your living environment, your job). We apply that idea to all kinds of topics, ranging from obesity to end of life care. It's a lot of fun, and I always come out of it with great facts to rattle off at people. For example, if you had to put a monetary value on a year of life, how much would you say it was worth? Well, here's one way to look at it. Before every car was required to have an airbag, many people willingly bought them for $300. You can tell most Americans thought this was a fair buy, because no one really objected when the government made airbags a required purchase with every vehicle. Airbags save about 1 in 10,000 drivers every year, so you could say our society values Average Joe's remaining years of life at 3 million dollars. And if Average Joe has around 30 years left to live, then each year of his life is worth approximately $100,000.

Cool, right? If you want to read a whole book about assigning dollars to health and the ROI of various health procedures, check out David Cutler's Your Money Or Your Life: Strong Medicine for America's Health. The little thought experiment I just described is adapted from page 15.

Still no major in sight. Sorry there's no big reveal. Let's see, what else is new? Oh, I got sorted into Kirkland House! At Harvard, you spend your first year living in a freshman dorm, and then in the spring you get lotteried into one of twelve upperclassman houses. The houses each have their pros and cons. Mather looks like a parking garage, but you are guaranteed a single for life. If you're in Dunster, you have to see Mather outside your window. Most freshmen live in fear of the Quad, which is like Siberia except with modern, spacious rooms and beautiful natural lighting. Instead, most freshies want to be assigned to a historic river house, where they will probably sleep in a closet along with two roommates and a rodent. Today, housing is assigned by a random lottery (you choose a "blocking group" of friends to share a house with, and "linking group" to share a neighborhood with, but that's it). In the past, though, housing was a selection process and each house therefore had a distinctive personality. For example, I've heard it said of the river houses that "Eliot was the rich house, Kirkland was the jock house, and Winthrop was the Catholic house. The Kennedys were in Winthrop because they were even more Catholic than rich." Anyways, right before spring break Harvard does this very Potter-esque housing day. There's a month-long build-up during which upperclassmen release hilarious housing videos and freshmen have blocking drama. On the day itself, freshmen hyperventilate in their rooms while packs of upperclassman run around screaming their house songs and banging down the doors of their houses' new members. The "good" houses sometimes do fake-outs where they'll come chanting "Cabot, Cabot, Cabot"...and when the freshmen start to cry they go "JUST KIDDING, ADAMS!!!" It's all in good fun, and eventually everyone develops fierce house pride. But it's Harvard, so on housing day you get a lot of kids yelling "E-L-I-O-T WE JUST WON THE LOTTERY!" while other kids shake their fists at God and wonder what they did to deserve such misfortune. Anyways, I'm really psyched about Kirkland. It's stunningly beautiful and the house masters have three giant dogs!

Haven't posted any pictures lately, so here's something for your amusement.

A lot of you have asked me to talk more about school, so I hope that satisfies some curiosity! More likely, I've opened a Pandora's box. What else do you guys want to know about?

claws out, brace yourself

2012-03-05T05:04:00.003-05:00

Let me start off by saying that I love stereotypes. Without stereotypes, the world joke arsenal would be pretty weak. We would miss out on a lot of demographic insights. And we'd have to really get to know people before we judged them, and while that would be very nice, it would be wildly inefficient.

Thankfully, though, we have plenty of stereotypes. It would be stupid if we didn't. But honestly, it surprises me how reluctant we are -- even in this extremely PC, supposedly enlightened society -- to move beyond our most primitive assumptions. See, it’s that time of year when I should tell you about the classes I’m taking. But if I do that (and reveal my smoldering wreckage of a plan of study), you’re going to make me talk about my major, aren’t you? And honestly, I’m not excited to write about my life plans because it would be tedious. I am incredibly bored of explaining how open-minded my family is. I feel like a broken record repeating myself about how I know they will support me in any career path I decide to follow. No matter what I do or say, I keep getting the same questions: “Are you not allowed to study the humanities?” That makes a lot of sense, given that my parents majored in economics and philosophy and both teach law. My personal favorite: “Would your mom kill you if you decided to be an English major?” Believe it or not, in her spare time, my mom enjoys writing memoirs. “Better cram in those electives before you have to major in something Asian!”

Hold up a second. What does that even mean?

Maybe it’s just me, but after a year of being branded with the so-called Asian stereotype, I’m not sure I even know what that stereotype really is. And I doubt you do, either. Indulge me here, and let's think this through.

Take your typical Asian guy: His name is Ding Dong. He has buck teeth and slits for eyes and brings chopsticks to the cafeteria so he can eat his dog with hot sauce. He is also a math genius with lots of extracurriculars.

False. Tintin is from Belgium.

Ding Dong is admitted to Harvard college. Because all Asians are required to become doctors, Ding Dong is expected to double-major – or concentrate, in Harvard speak – in statistics and biomedical engineering.

Say he instead decides to study economics. Of course he does: his parents have commanded him to become rich and successful.

If he finds a passion for government or law, there’s an easy explanation. His mother, who happens to be a professor at Yale Law School, is forcing him to follow in her footsteps.

What if, defying all expectations, he decides to major in East African folklore and film studies? Easy – it’s obviously a strategic move, so that he can stand out from other Chinese kids on grad school applications. Classic Asian.

These are not my examples. These are comments I have read in print, found on my blog, and heard from my peers.

When taken together, these stereotypes paint no portrait. They are unrelated, incompatible, and even contradictory, in all save one respect: each one of the stereotypes above seeks to rob Asians of their agency. Each one suggests that Asians, particularly Asian youth, are incapable of autonomous action and instead blindly follow predetermined paths. No matter what choices an Asian makes, people will insist that those choices were made for him, not by him.

When I was little, my mom told me never to complain about anti-Asian discrimination. “It’s the easiest stereotype to overcome,” she pointed out. “If you don’t like the model minority stereotype, all you have to do is get a nose ring.” And indeed, today, Asians in America are successfully outgrowing the model minority fable. But the stereotype is changing much faster than the population; the stereotype has become amorphous, all-encompassing, and practically impossible to overcome. And even when exceptions are identified, I’m not sure they should be. Why does Jeremy Lin have to be the exception to the rule? Why can’t he just be a posterchild for everything awesome and empowering about this (our) generation of rule-breaking Asian-Americans?

Anyways, that’s my rant of the month. By the way, I mean rule-breaking in a broad sense. Of course we still do our homework. Oh, and Jeremy Lin...here’s my number, so call me maybe?

Am I crazy, or do you kind of see where I'm coming from? Sometimes I feel lucky to be a hybrid, because people have trouble categorizing me. I'm interested to hear from those of you that are more, uh, visually identifiable. Leave a comment below!

q+a: burnout

2012-02-13T11:33:00.001-05:00

Hey hey! Busy semester, which I'll tell you more about soon. I felt like answering some non-ponderous questions to unwind, so here you are.

Q: How tall are you?
A: My driver’s license says 5'4. That is a heinous lie I told the DMV so they would underestimate my potential. I’m actually way taller.

Q: How’s Arabic going?
A: Turns out you can’t start Arabic second semester, so I’m taking Chinese instead! It’s great, Harvard has an accelerated class for “heritage speakers,” which is a nice way of saying “Chinese for Chinese Kids Who Can’t Read Good.” We’re actually a significant demographic.

Q: Have you gone to any Red Sox games?
A: First of all, the only thing I like about the Red Sox is the tears their fans shed when they lose. Second, recall that – in tandem with the only gruesome, come-from-behind Yankee loss I’ve ever cheered for – the Red Sox botched their wild card spot and didn’t make the playoffs last fall, so there hasn’t been much baseball to see here. But yes, I’m adding “make a New York cheering squad at Fenway” to my bucket list now. If I get killed, you can blame yourself.

Q: Can you post about your dogs?
A: I'm dying. First pic is Push from my cell phone. The second is Coco, by Lulu. If you want more Lulu (and I know all of you do), check out her new tumblr: http://luluchuarubenfeld.tumblr.com/

Q: Do you find it strange to see yourself on TV or being talked about?
A: Yes, it gives me goosebumps! Especially because the TV networks somehow found this hideous, middle-school picture of me wearing a mustard-colored Life is Good shirt that they display EVERY SINGLE TIME WITHOUT FAIL NO MATTER HOW MANY OTHER PHOTO OPTIONS THEY HAVE. Sorry, vain. But come on, Today Show, have a heart. Oh wait, I forgot. You are totally out of touch with the American population and STILL think people want to hear you rag on my family.

Q: What computer do you have?
A: This super jacked-up Toshiba Portege 9700. There are all these exposed wires and the CD drive fell out (but actually). That said, it’s feather-light and it’s not an Apple product, so I love it to death.

Q: What’s the best thing that happened to you lately?
A: I faceplanted while running, sliced open my knee, left a trail of blood along the Charles, and was in the process of smearing blood on an illustrious bridge when a stranger in a car rolled down her window, handed me a wad of tissues, and drove away. Faith in humanity restored.

next post will probably be an update on what's new with school this semester. also considering a post on "how to do high school like a tigercub." any other suggestions?

jaipur...very very briefly

2012-01-27T22:08:00.001-05:00

I'm sorry to disappoint, but we were in India for all of 48 hours. I think we spent more time on Air India than in the actual country. We basically landed, slept, did a full day of Jaipur Literary Festival appearances (as in: my mom was on panels, CNN interviewed us, my dad beat off creepy guys with a stick, and droves of random people tried to take our picture. Funny story: Oprah was there, and two of her bodyguards were arrested for assaulting paparazzi. "Bubble of personal space" is not a concept in India.)

The Indian make-up artists had their way with me

...which meant I got a Snooki pouf (YES) and Bollywood

eyeliner. Photos, as usual, by Lulu.

...and then had less than a day to see the sights (mainly sites) of Jaipur. The yellow skateboard-ramp thing up there is the world's biggest sundial. Some prince commissioned this huge plaza full of incredibly accurate time-telling devices, which were mainly used to determine royal horoscopes. Actually, horoscopes are still consulted in modern-day India when it comes to arranging marriages. And yes, we are nerdy enough to get excited by a yard of giant clocks.

♫ which one of these is not like the others? ♫

I've only been twice, but I -- like many travelers before me -- have fallen in love with India. Now, before you pull out your slings and arrows of righteousness, let me be clear that this is not a treatise on India's social ills or tumultuous history. One, it's not my place, and two, you've heard it before. So what two cents can I add to your picture? Well, I know this is super un-PC, but I'm going to make this observation anyway: In many places I've visited that have a history of colonization, local culture seems to stagnate in the face of Western influence. It fossilizes into a tourist attraction that white people then have to patronizingly appreciate out of post-colonial guilt. In India, by contrast, it seems like British influence was swallowed whole by an ancient tradition that is alive, evolving, and hungry. The result is that visiting India is like being plunged into a different world...and as someone who has been to all corners of the globe, I can tell you that doesn't happen a lot. There's a sensory overload, a caste system in flux; paupers with bubonic plague beg from princesses wearing rubies the size of ostrich eggs. And then everybody plays cricket and has a literary festival, go figure.

Well, there you go. Two days worth of India.

Last time, we went to Mumbai and Delhi and Agra -- the usual tourist route -- and it was totally incredible. And yes, this photo is from our old 20-lb 2007 digital camera.

to private school or not to private school?

2012-01-19T11:05:00.005-05:00

You guys have asked me tons of questions about this, and I keep putting it off because 1) it’s complicated, 2) I'm not qualified to provide an informed answer (I went to private high school for four years, and therefore by definition didn't have a comparative public high school experience) and these are just my one-sided observations that no one should give a ^&$% about, and 3) I wanted to wait until college to see how my private school education actually served me. I think the best thing I can do is give you my take on some of the usual myths you hear about private school, and then tell you what I feel I personally got out of it.

NB: I realized after I wrote this that all of my answers have private prep school in mind. For those of you who are curious, I went to the Hopkins School in New Haven, CT. We didn't affect British accents, our dress code only banned leggings and midriffs and beer logos, and nobody had a private fleet of yachts. I also want to emphasize the following obvious facts: there are brilliant kids in both public and private schools, there are public schools in many districts that offer top-notch education comparable to private schools, and a motivated student can thrive and succeed in any environment.

Myth: At private school, success is dished up on a silver platter.

Well, yes and no. There are absolutely more resources to be found at a private school: we had a vast library, advanced courses, and teachers who were willing to do extra help and mentor extracurricular activities. But just because these resources are available doesn’t mean every kid will take advantage of them. From what I’ve seen, private school is no different from other schools in that students must take initiative – seek out extra help, start a club, hunt down that volume of Beethoven’s letters for your term paper – in order to succeed.

Myth: A private school education will help me get into the college of my choice.

In terms of college, private school is definitely a double edged sword. If you are an outstanding student at a rigorous private high school, I think your odds shoot up exponentially. That said, it is much, much harder to be outstanding at private school, because almost everyone is smart and hard-working.

Myth: It’s better for me to stay in private school getting B’s and C’s, even though I’m confident I could get A’s if I transferred to public school.

That depends on what you’re looking to get out of your education. A better shot at going to a top college? I would say go to public school. I don’t think being a mediocre student at private school gives you any special advantages at all, and you might just be wasting your money. If, on the other hand, you want to be immersed in an intellectual environment, stay in private school and stop worrying so much about college. And in fact, as far as college goes, your love of learning will be apparent and might make you a more appealing candidate.

Myth: It’s better for me to stay in private school getting D’s than to transfer to public school, where I still might do poorly.

In this case, I agree. Private schools have great advising and college counseling systems in place. If you graduate from private school – which you will, because they won’t let you fail out – you are almost guaranteed to go to college. They shoot for a 100% college matriculation rate, so their interests are aligned with your interests.

Myth: Private School is like Gossip Girl.

Maybe in New York, I wouldn’t know! At my provincial private day school, life was nothing like Gossip Girl. We spent our free time lounging in the common room, not doing unspeakable things in champagne-filled hot tubs or whatever. Of course there were different social groups, but they weren’t especially cliquey or judgmental. And while a lot of kids had them, you didn’t need iPhones or UGG boots to be accepted.

What I liked about private school (not to imply you wouldn't get the same benefits at some public schools; I really wouldn't know):

• People care. About learning, about each other, about putting in effort. You don’t have to pretend you don’t care to be cool.
• There was no culture shock in the transition to college. High school was more work than Harvard! My writing was up to par, I didn’t struggle with the reading load, and my high school study skills served me in good stead.
• This might be surprising, but I think I actually had a more diverse group of friends than I would have at public school. Of course, private schools tend to have fairly homogenous populations. That said, when you’re part of a class of 130 kids, you get to know everyone – whereas at huge public schools, I think it’s easier to navigate the social system by banding together with kids just like you. One of my favorite stories that illustrates this: while I was with our school team at Science Olympiad Nationals (oh, that too – at public school I might have been stuffed in a locker), I got texts from the captains of varsity soccer, football, and wrestling wishing me good luck. It meant a lot.
• I had a great intellectual experience. I took classes in high school – like Military History and East Asian Studies – that many people don’t even get to take in college. We dissected the poems of Ovid and Catullus in a seminar-style Latin class. My classmates proposed daring interpretations of Richard II in English discussions. My teachers loved the material they taught. Of course, this isn't what everyone is looking for at high school, but I enjoyed it.
• Everyone has some kind of passion or cool talent, so there’s a lot of mutual respect. See my grad speech if you’re curious!
• You are encouraged to play a varsity sport even as an un-athletic, half-Asian white kid. Not only is that a great opportunity, but it prevents the formation of a ruling jock-cheerleader class. Instead, people differentiate themselves by being witty, interesting, and fun to be around.
• My school was very small and very old, so there were lots of school traditions – like competing for the most dramatic prom asking (which IMHO my boyfriend won) -- that brought each graduating class together.

What I didn’t like about private school:

• Being coddled and sheltered. I have no illusions: public school will definitely give you a better sense of the real world. Private school can be like a happy bubble of nerd heaven.
• Lots of rigidity in curriculum requirements. A motivated student at public school (or so I hear...maybe I'm noticing a self-selected population and this isn't always the case) can go to the administration and say, “hey, I want to take AP classes as a freshman, test out of math, and audit courses at a local college.” Private schools like to do things a certain way, and you just have to roll with it. And if you roll with it, I admit the system works pretty well.
• At the end of the day, you’re competing against all of your closest friends.
• “Oh, you went to private school, of course you got into Harvard. I, on the other hand, went to public school and pulled myself up by my bootstraps.” Trust me, you still have to earn your way at private school, and the competition is fierce.
• If you don’t do well, you feel guilty for wasting your parents’ money and for disappointing teachers who had placed such high hopes in you.

I hope that helps! Let me know if you have specific questions I didn't address, and I'll add my answers to this post.

q+a: study break

2012-01-13T17:32:00.000-05:00

It sounds like you all want me to give the soul-searching (and soul-crushing, lol #overanalyzed) deep stuff a rest and answer some questions about, you know, normal life. So here's q+a: frivolous edition. I promise I'll make up for it with a treatise on Hegelian dialectic or something! Enjoy, and as always, let me know your thoughts and questions in the comments.

carefree on my last playdate, 17 years ago.

Q: What are your wardrobe staples?
A: Boots, bandeaus, and the biggest hoop earrings I can find. Actually, that’s such a lie. I’m flattered by all of you who like my “style,” but honestly I live 99% of my life in SoLows and sweatpants. Whichever of the two smells clean.

Q: How many hours of sleep do you get a night?
A: Quoth Hamlet, You can sleep when you’re dead.

Q: Why did your parents give you a hyphenated last name? Who does that?
A: Actually, the noble houses of Europe have hyphenated for centuries; they do it to preserve illustrious family names and flaunt their lineages. Prince William’s last name is Mountbatten-Windsor. On the flip side, it was also a big bourgeois thing to hyphenate because they were all wannabe-aristocrats. Which is ironic in the context of my family, because if anything, my mom is a wannabe immigrant. Also, there aren’t a lot of names that scream “Chinese Jew” like mine does. And it’s cool to be one of two people in the entire history of human civilization who have the name Chua-Rubenfeld.

Q: How do you react to people who tell you no?
A: ...

Q: What do you eat for breakfast?
A: The people who tell me no or a banana and oatmeal, depending on my mood. Although growing up, it was always Reeses’ Puffs, Count Chocula, and Apple Jacks. The best thing about a working mom is that no one monitors the sugar content in your breakfast cereal.

Q: Do you consider failure an option?
A: As someone who hates losing even more than she likes winning: yes, I absolutely do. Because even if you don’t consider failure an option, sometimes things go beyond your control. And at a certain point, after you’ve tried your hardest, you need to swallow your pride and recalculate instead of banging your head against a wall. But here’s the catch: you can’t let temporary failure turn into ultimate failure. Acknowledging failure isn’t the same as quitting. When you quit, you’re saying, “I will never be able to do this, now or later. I am not good enough to do this.” When you fail, you’re saying, “I can’t do this right now, but I can go home and train/discipline/prepare myself for next time. And next time, I will succeed.”

Q: Who’s your favorite candidate for the 2012 primary?
A: What’s your favorite type of foot fungus?

How to Study Like a Tiger Cub

2012-01-08T17:08:00.003-05:00

I’m publishing this over break, while I still feel qualified to give advice before my soul is crushed by new classes. This is the first in a series of posts I’m working on, which will take the form “How to _____ Like a Tiger Cub.” My mom’s book is not a how-to guide. This is. I’d like to stress the following: there is no good reason you should do anything the way I do. This isn't necessarily the right way; it's my way. But if you so choose, ask in the comments and ye shall receive my advice. Today, I give you:

HOW TO STUDY LIKE A TIGER CUB

Q: I was just wondering if you could share some studying tips?

Like how to study smart or more efficiently?

Preliminary Steps

1. Choose classes that interest you. That way studying doesn’t feel like slave labor. If you don’t want to learn, then I can’t help you.
2. Make some friends. See steps 12, 13, 23, 24.

General Principles

3. Study less, but study better.
4. Avoid Autopilot Brain at all costs.
5. Vague is bad. Vague is a waste of your time.
6. Write it down.
7. Suck it up, buckle down, get it done.

Plan of Attack Phase I: Class

8. Show up. Everything will make a lot more sense that way, and you will save yourself a lot of time in the long run.
9. Take notes by hand. I don’t know the science behind it, but doing anything by hand is a way of carving it into your memory. Also, if you get bored you will doodle, which is still a thousand times better than ending up on stumbleupon or something.

Phase II: Study Time

10. Get out of the library. The sheer fact of being in a library doesn’t fill you with knowledge. Eight hours of Facebooking in the library is still eight hours of Facebooking. Also, people who bring food and blankets to the library and just stay there during finals week start to smell weird. Go home and bathe. You can quiz yourself while you wash your hair.
11. Do a little every day, but don’t let it be your whole day. “This afternoon, I will read a chapter of something and do half a problem set. Then, I will watch an episode of South Park and go to the gym” ALWAYS BEATS “Starting right now, I am going to read as much as I possibly can...oh wow, now it’s midnight, I’m on page five, and my room reeks of ramen and dysfunction.”
12. Give yourself incentive. There’s nothing worse than a gaping abyss of study time. If you know you’re going out in six hours, you’re more likely to get something done.
13. Allow friends to confiscate your phone when they catch you playing Angry Birds. Oh and if you think you need a break, you probably don't.

Phase III: Assignments

14. Stop highlighting. Underlining is supposed to keep you focused, but it’s actually a one-way ticket to Autopilot Brain. You zone out, look down, and suddenly you have five pages of neon green that you don’t remember reading. Write notes in the margins instead.
15. Do all your own work. You get nothing out of copying a problem set. It’s also shady.
16. Read as much as you can. No way around it. Stop trying to cheat with Sparknotes.
17. Be a smart reader, not a robot (lol). Ask yourself: What is the author trying to prove? What is the logical progression of the argument? You can usually answer these questions by reading the introduction and conclusion of every chapter. Then, pick any two examples/anecdotes and commit them to memory (write them down). They will help you reconstruct the author’s argument later on.
18. Don’t read everything, but understand everything that you read. Better to have a deep understanding of a limited amount of material, than to have a vague understanding of an entire course. Once again: Vague is bad. Vague is a waste of your time.
19. Bullet points. For essays, summarizing, everything.

Phase IV: Reading Period (Review Week)

20. Once again: do not move into the library. Eat, sleep, and bathe.
21. If you don’t understand it, it will definitely be on the exam. Solution: textbooks; the internet.
22. Do all the practice problems. This one is totally tiger mom.
23. People are often contemptuous of rote learning. Newsflash: even at great intellectual bastions like Harvard, you will be required to memorize formulas, names and dates. To memorize effectively: stop reading your list over and over again. It doesn’t work. Say it out loud, write it down. Remember how you made friends? Have them quiz you, then return the favor.
24. Again with the friends: ask them to listen while you explain a difficult concept to them. This forces you to articulate your understanding. Remember, vague is bad.
25. Go for the big picture. Try to figure out where a specific concept fits into the course as a whole. This will help you tap into Big Themes – every class has Big Themes – which will streamline what you need to know. You can learn a million facts, but until you understand how they fit together, you’re missing the point.

Phase V: Exam Day

26. Crush exam. Get A.

Edit: Yes, feel free to share this with anyone you like!
Let me know what you think. If you have a request for the blank in "How to ____ Like a Tiger Cub," leave a comment and I'll do my best!

q+a: scandalous edition

2012-01-04T14:02:00.002-05:00

As promised, a belated Christmas present! Happy birthday to the world's most famous Jew! Today, I decided to answer some invasive personal questions as well as the usual. Here goes.

Q: There was a recent article that said Asians are less likely to check the "Asian" box when applying for colleges due to fear of discrimination. Some half-Asian/half-white applicants only indicate their white ethnicity. What are your thoughts on that, and how did you answer that question when applying to colleges?
A: I checked Asian. I had heard it was harder to apply as an Asian, so as a point of pride, I had to say I was Asian. Would you feel good about yourself knowing you lied to get in on lowered standards?

Q: Are you still with your high school boyfriend?
A: Yes.

Q: Have you ever mixed up "your, you're" or "there, their, they're" before?
A: No.

Q: How did the tiger mom handle the birds and the bees?
A: We have never had the Talk. We have talked about how we’d both be grossed out and giggling if we had the Talk, and we decided against it. I know this might be a little weird (and I’m not necessarily advocating this approach) but it worked for us. A prime example, I might add, of mother-daughter communication.

Q: What was your favorite Christmas present you received?
A: My grandparents gave me a bunch of books by Stephen Hawking. He is my new hero. The Illustrated A Brief History of Time is a picture book for people like me who have average brains but want to learn about quantum mechanics.

Q: Did you ever feel too sheltered growing up under the thumb of a tiger mom?
A: I don’t feel I grew up under anybody’s thumb! My mom isn’t a micromanager. She has classes to teach and books to write, and doesn’t have time to check in with me every thirty seconds. And sheltered? Oh, no...one silver lining of being the middle schooler reading books at recess is that you get exposed to all kinds of things. Norse myths get kinky. If you don’t already know what Loki did with a stallion, don’t google it.

Q: I know several "tiger moms." Their kids are either the non-social, diligently studious type, or they are talkative and exciting to be around with, while still maintaining "Chinese values." I noticed that you're more of the latter type. Do you have any idea what causes this pattern? Does it have to do with the parenting?
A: First off: thank you, I appreciate that. Just speculating, I’m inclined to blame the parents. All of the beaten-down, school-obsessed kids I have spoken to share a striking trait: to a one, they believe their parents’ love for them is tied to how highly they achieve. (The “believe” part is important – I think some parents just have trouble expressing their love.) When I was growing up, by contrast, the idea that my parents would love me less if I did poorly on a math test was ridiculous. They were there to cheer for me when I did well, and to push me when I didn’t. But in both cases they were there for me, because they loved me no matter what. I think having to compete not only for success, but also for affection would be incredibly stressful and perhaps psychologically damaging. So I think it comes down to unconditional versus conditional love, and unconditional wins every time.

More questions? Leave comments!

happy new years i'm not dead!

2011-12-31T14:55:00.005-05:00

All my usual apologies, plus this one: I changed my twitter name to @sophiacaribou . Why? Well, I wanted my name in it, puns get old (especially when "phi" and "fi" aren't pronounced the same), and -- admit it -- you were expecting "tiger," weren't you.

I've never been one for diaries, but I used to write a super self-conscious, angsty life summary every New Year's Eve. I haven't done it for a while now, but I figure it's been quite the year. So I'm going to resurrect and subject you to an abbreviated bit of tradition. Very abbreviated, because I think for the most part you guys want to hear about two things: tiger mom and college, and how those two fit together. Here's what I have to say about it.

I'll be honest: the reaction to Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother made me question who I was. Before the book came out, I would have described myself as strong, independent, and self-motivated. That confidence, instilled in me by my family, was one reason I supported my mom's decision to publish the book in the first place. I thought people who read the book would take me and Lulu as living proof that kids of tiger parents turn out just fine.

To an extent, I was right. But the key phrase there is "who read the book."

Well, it turns out this is twenty-first century America, where achievement precludes happiness and psychologists hold panels called "Tiger Moms and Childhood Trauma." Have they even read my mom's book? Of course not, they read the Wall Street Journal excerpt and are boycotting the book on principle. Every troll has a constitutional right to trash that Asian witch and her brainwashed daughters in every far-flung corner of the internet. But they would never buy her book, hell no, it's all a moneymaking scheme and if you think you can trick them into funding Chinese supremacy, guess again. (How do I feel about that? Well, I support your lawful right to say whatever you want. I also support my playground right to break your nose if you call my mother names.) At least judge the book by its cover, people! The cover says it's a story of being "humbled by a thirteen year old!"

Ever since I was little, my parents have told me not to care what other people say about you. My dad is especially good at that, which is why he has been kicked out of various establishments for insubordination and chased out of restaurants by angry French chefs. When the book came out and the commentary came in, I wanted so badly to be that type of person. I succeeded halfway: I was able to shake off strangers' opinions of me, but their words threatened to change my opinion of myself. I started to question Carnegie Hall, my schoolwork, and everything else I was proud of. Was I the one who had achieved my goals and dreams, or had it just been my mom standing over my shoulder the whole time?

That's why my first term at college was so important. I had to prove that I could thrive on my own, the way I always thought I had -- not to convince the world, but to convince myself. And good news: I found out I'm fundamentally the same person at college that I was before. My strengths haven't changed, and neither have my flaws (Will I be furious and depressed if I lose at Ghost? Yes. Have I ever lost a game of Ghost? No.). And that's what I have to thank my parents for: they made me a rock-solid person who can do things on her own.

As this year comes to a close, my confidence is back and it's here to stay. My family is tighter than ever. The tiger controversy has matured from a fight about stuffed animals to a conversation that I am confident will make America stronger, smarter, and more successful.You faithful few who still follow this blog are a big part of that, as is everyone who expressed support through letters, emails, and tweets :]

Have a great New Year's. Here's my mom's take on the same issue, by the way. Expect a Q+A as a retroactive Christmas present.
fondly,
tigercub

q+a: guilt trip win

2011-11-04T11:53:00.000-04:00

You're right, I'm a lazy blogger and I don't keep my promises. So here's a q+a post that I owe you. But first off, I want to thank Angela and Sabrina's Mom for sending me the amazing care packages!! Letters coming your ways soon, but for now just know there's one less hungry college kid out there.

Q: Were you Teddy Roosevelt or Black Swan for Halloween?
A: I went with Black Swan. Which I haven't actually seen. Basically, it was a way to use this black tutu that I have major buyer's remorse about purchasing. Also, I don't have a great track record with historical cross dressing; I had to do Michelangelo and Beaumarchais at various times in elementary school. Never, never again.

For the record, I take Halloween very seriously. As in I trick or treat, and because I feel a little bit bad about taking other people's candy as a teenager, I at least put some effort in it. Last year was all about the elf ears. And just for your entertainment, sophomore year was...I don't even know what.

Q: Is there something you struggled with as a child? I'm sure even tiger children have their insecurities.
A: Yes. Weight. I'm roughly the same weight today as I was in all of middle school, except 5 inches taller. Shopping sucked ("Do you have this in a large? She has a bit of a belly"), so there were a lot of sweatshirts and baggy pants involved (on the bright side: it got me into Nirvana), which meant I had to hate everything girly, which meant I couldn't engage in conversations about Britney Spears, which meant I spent a lot of time by myself playing Age of Mythology. Actually, in the scheme of things, maybe that's not so bad. I could have been doing a lot of worse things in middle school, like playing the drums.

Q: What do you miss most about home?
A: My dogs. So much. But whenever I visit home, they wag their tails for about three seconds and then ignore me...talk about a one-sided relationship. Also Szechuan food, fresh fruit (seriously, you'd think the second richest institution in the world could afford fruit salad or, you know, pay their workers a decent wage...oh wait I forgot, they spent all their money buying themselves a 4,000,000 pound red velvet birthday cake or whatever), lazing around in my parents' room, waking up freezing cold and then running downstairs with three sweaters on to eat cereal with Lulu, getting the New York Times delivered, doing the crossword with Lulu, jogging in my neighborhood, the way my neighborhood smells in the fall, giant bath towels, driving the Wrangler.

Q: Did you play any sports in high school? Will not playing sports put me at a disadvantage when applying to college?
A: Okay, multiple part answer. First, answer: yes, I was on the tennis team through junior year, and as a senior I ran track instead. (Slowly.) Next, disclaimer: not only am I not a college selection process guru, I pretty much have no freaking idea how they choose people here at all. Well, some things are pretty obvious. Having your name on a building helps. Or having famous and interesting parents, I mean that's probably why I'm here, isn't it. Finally, conjecture: again, I don't know anything for sure. But from common sense, I'd say that unless you are good enough to be recruited, the college doesn't need you for your athletic ability. If anything, playing sports is just one of many ways to show you are well-rounded or multi-faceted or whatever the polite term du jour is for "not a potential serial killer who likes lab mice more than people." Also, from looking around me, I can assure you that there are many, MANY people accepted into fine institutions who have never touched a sneaker in their life. You will be fine.

P.S. The horse lives :)

Leave more questions! Thanks for reading. I'm working on more frequent posting, so just let me know what you want to hear about!

happy birthday to meee

2011-10-27T12:58:00.000-04:00

Hi from a nineteen-year-old...who (according to family, friends, and restaurant managers) looks solidly twelve. Wow, it's been an overwhelming month.

I can't believe you guys actually wrote to me! I know this is weird, because I don't actually know any of you, but your letters convinced me that -- even in these uncertain times -- the world is going to be okay. So many of you sent pictures of your children, told stories of your parents, or wrote about your own dreams for the future. You expressed it in different ways, but I could tell that each of you had something or someone that you cared about more than you cared about yourself. It's inspiring stuff :) I'm slowly but surely working on your replies! It may take a while, but keep checking your mail.

Briefly, this was my October:

1. Midterms

Superstitious paranoiac that I am, I didn't want to write about how awesome my classes are until I was sure I'd passed the midterms. I made it out alive, so here we go.

I'm taking four classes this fall, and I love them all. They are fascinating, specialized, and give me a clear trajectory for where I will be in 10 years: overqualified, unemployed, possibly homeless. Here they are:

Time -- a physics class about time. We raced through all of Newtonian mechanics (blah) and thermodynamics (wtf) in about a month, and now we get to do the fun stuff: relativity, paradoxes, time travel, quantum mechanics. I really get a kick out of this class. Basically, I'm not that good at physics but I think it's incredibly cool. I'm pretty bad at mechanics -- my 10th grade teacher told me as much, and I literally cry when I see the word "centripetal" -- but I really like circuits and magnetism and most of all, the mind-bendy time stuff. You can be terrible at math and science and still understand Einstein's derivations. I wish you could major in mind-bendy stuff. That would be pretty awesome.

example problem: a horse (5meters long) is running at almost light-speed at a pair of swinging blades (exactly 5 meters long). From the point of view of the blades, the horse's length contracts (relativity: just accept it), so the horse fits inside the blades and survives. From the point of the view of the horse, though, he's just chilling there, and there's a pair or blades rushing toward him at almost the speed of light. From his point of view, the distance between the blades is shrinking (same principle; accept it), and he dies. The horse can't both live and die. Which happens??

...not on that note at all, my next class:

Body Image in French Art and Visual Culture (18th and 19th Centuries) -- The name says it all: I was seeking depth over breadth, and I got it. This is a fantastically taught class. Every lecture focuses on a different use of the body in art: as the embodiment of the state, as an erotic object, as a tool of racism, etc. I can honestly say that I will never look at a painting the same way after taking this course. Another fun aspect is the field trips. Last week, we went to this storage facility where Harvard keeps the collections it has no room to display. It was absolutely astounding. My professor had them pull out one of David's preliminary sketches for The Tennis Court Oath, a self-portrait by Courbet, and a Rodin sculpture -- NO BIG DEAL OR ANYTHING. I could barely believe my eyes. Anyways, I'm totally not hipster enough for this class yet but I'm trying my best. If you have any scarf-tying tips, please let me know.

Language and Prehistory -- This is my freshman seminar. It's my smallest class: there are only about 15 of us. We're learning about language reconstruction -- specifically, recreating Proto-Indo-European from its descendants -- and later, we're going to see how linguistics has been used and misused in recent history (think Nazis). Oh, funny story about my social skills. About a month ago, I decided to be brave in the dining hall and sat down with two kids I didn't recognize. "Hi guys! We've probably met somewhere, I'm Sophia." The response: "We know. We're in your seminar." Awful, just awful. But there's a happy ending! I aggressively made everyone exchange contact info during the next class, and now seminar is increasingly tight and fun. Hurray for texting :)

Anthropology of Arabia -- A class that may actually influence what I do with the rest of my life. My professor did lots of field work in Yemen, and he tells vivid stories about finding himself caught up in tribal disputes, being mistaken for an American spy and thrown in prison, etc. I knew absolutely nothing about the Arabian Peninsula going in, and now I'm kind of dead set on going abroad to the Middle East. I really want to see the crazy cosmopolitanism of cities like Dubai, but I want to see the local as well as the global. I'm going to take Arabic next term and see where that gets me.

But you know what they say: work hard, play hard(er)!

2. Fun times

Never thought I'd be sunbathing in October. Also never thought the men's swimming/diving team would have "take picture with the tiger mom's daughter" as an item on their scavenger hunt (for the record, it's TIGER CUB. Not "tiger mom's daughter." TIGER CUB). Definitely never thought my roommates and I would jump off a bridge into the Charles' river because, hey, those guys just did it for their scavenger hunt and it looks like fun. In retrospect, yes, I jumped off a bridge because everyone was doing it. So worth it.

I like college :)

My roommates and I are making a bucket list! Any suggestions? Let me know in the comments!

no one gets my doors quotes, i give up

2011-10-01T16:58:00.001-04:00

Greetings from a hot mess at Harvard! I was recently informed that I've been doing only half the reading for one of my classes because I forgot we had a supplemental source book. I also have two books to read and my first paper due in about 48 hours...so this is kind of a weak post. Things are good, though! My family came up to visit me on Thursday, which was the highlight of my week. Lulu helped me take some pictures, and that's what I have for you today..

I live here. My dorm was built in the '20s as an apartment building; my three roommates and I have a quad, and I'm pretty sure the room I'm bunking in used to be a walk-in closet for the master bedroom. Anyways, we have a huge common room. The homeless-looking pile is all my books and stuff. I'm have issues with desks. I also have very, very tolerant roommates :)

View from outside our window. Also note the collection of 15 kinds of Lysol.

Had to throw this in. Lulu and I walked into separate changing rooms with an armful of clothes each, and somehow managed to come out in the exact same outfits. #winning #twinning #twitteraddict

My mom is such a sweetheart. Shame on anyone who says otherwise. She brought me winter clothes, orchard-fresh apples, and even some friends from home. Note: Lulu and I had Uglydolls before they became kitschy. Like, before they turned Trey into a girl. I'm on the bottom bunk (the one with the ugly sheets because I have no taste).

I miss everybody :(

Also, no one sends me mail and I find that really upsetting! At least at home I got junk mail from airlines. Now I just feel unloved. Write me a letter at 1233 Harvard Yard Mail Center, Cambridge MA 02138 and I promise you I'll send you a handwritten letter back. Still not getting my hopes up, though.

If I get some work done, I'll post about more substantive things ASAP. Thanks for reading and stay tuned, next update will come SOON this time!!

alabama song

2011-09-04T18:45:00.000-04:00

I like college. You can have sixteen nano-technology patents or an Olympic medal, or you can just be the child of famous authors. But once you're here, it doesn't matter. Tabula rasa. You make yourself; you prove yourself. Or you become nocturnal and subsist off of ramen and protein shakes, that's cool too.

Well, I won't bore you with details about how I spend my days (wearing lacoste and pearls, playing croquet in the Yahd) and nights (dancing in cages...oh, wait. That's MIT). We're still in the middle of shopping period, where you can drop in and out of any class you like for two weeks. We need shopping period here because all the classes sound incredible on paper. They have really great names. "Political Legitimacy and Resistance: What Happened in Montaigne’s Library on the Night of October 23, 1587, and Why Should Political Philosophers Care?" Yes, you read that correctly. It's a semester-long class devoted to one room on one night in history. You hear that, and you KNOW that professor WANTS to be teaching that class. This place is really about knowledge for the sake of knowledge. It's pretty cool. But even incredibly passionate people can lecture in a monotone, and that's where shopping period comes in handy. The best part, though, is getting to sponge up esoteric knowledge in classes I know I'm not taking. It's like trick-or-treating at nerd Halloween.

Here are some things I've learned so far.

"Yucatan" means "I don't understand you" in the language of the ancient Maya. When the Spanish conquistadors saw land, they started calling out in Spanish (logical), and the native people in canoes yelled back, "Yucatan."

Swaziland is still ruled by an absolute monarch, who periodically orders every virgin in the land to dance bare-breasted so he can find a wife to his liking.

The bronze ceiling of the Pantheon was torn down and recast as Bernini's Baldacchino in the Vatican.

There's a reason why we sometimes shorten "them" to " 'em" (as in "yeah, I roofied 'em last night"...don't drink the punch). Think about it: you don't shorten "this" to " 'is," or "then" to " 'en" ("and 'en we did 'is crazy 'ing"...no.). So why 'em? It's because the Old English plural third person was "hem," and even when that word dropped out of formal use, the casual pronunciation lived on. Go on, you try and tell me that's not cool.

Coming soon: vlog with q&a, a peek at the dorm, and all the stuff I've wanted to say for a very long time. hehe. leave your most burning questions below. it could take a while, so if you want more tiger cub in the meantime check out the twitter :)

we shall go on playing or find a new town

2011-08-25T08:45:00.003-04:00

when i practiced piano yesterday, i worked on cadences.

when you play music, you are supposed to phrase and follow the melodic line as though you were singing. i'm not sure how to explain it, but somehow the sounds become synced with your breath and are naturally pleasing to the human ear.

one note almost always lives a double life. the last note of one phrase, my professor reminds me, is the first note of the next. it's so obvious, yet so easy to overlook. every end is also a beginning, and you have to feel both at the same time.

as i zip my life into a suitcase today (okay, two suitcases), i try to identify that protean note. i don't know if it's a moment or an object, a feeling or a word.

six bobblehead turtles painted all different colors, alone on the shelf.

a bookmark in a novel i'm leaving behind.

my dogs looking up at me from the pen beneath my window.

i'll see you around.

five books you probably haven't read but ought to

2011-08-22T19:34:00.001-04:00

Summer's ending, and I'm only 300 pages into War and Peace!
I've long been promising a favorite books post, and I keep putting it off because it's such a daunting prospect. If you think about it, we make more choices every day than humans in other eras made in a lifetime. (To tweet or not to tweet? Pay fifteen dollars for Watch the Throne, or plug your ears and mutter about over-hype? Major for love or job security? Now imagine being slated at birth to marry your neighbor and farm potatoes. Not so stressful as long as you avoid the plague.) Of course, you could argue that all the little choices just help us avoid the big choices, or that it's all a delusion and capitalism is leeching us of free will, etc., etc. Well, maybe I'm just naive, but I really do believe these choices make us who we are. We each choose our own culture, and that changes how we think. And nothing affects how you think like what you choose to read.

A post about my all-time favorite books would be so much more than a list. It would have to be some hard-core soul searching. So instead, I'm going to break this into a couple of different posts: books I loved as a child, books that messed with my mind, books in any other grouping I can think of.

Here are some books I've read in the last six months that -- see the post title -- you probably haven't read, but ought to.

1. The Lost Books of the Odyssey, by Zachary Mason
As you're reading this, you feel in the presence of a creative mind. Languid and transporting, this series of what-ifs makes you question your idea of truth. It also has Greek gods.

2. The Remains of the Day, by Kazuo Ishiguro
Makes you wonder how, and at what cost, one seizes the day.

3. The Book of Dave, by Will Self
Two narratives: 1) a post-apocalyptic society revolves around a holy book, which turns out to be 2) the ranting diary of a present-day London cabby. The depiction of the now is the scariest part. Will Self really clubs you over the head with a message, but it's a good read none the less.

4. The Crying of Lot 49, by Thomas Pynchon
Weird little book. You're carefully marching along, and then you realize things are happening right and left, and you frantically try to snatch at the pieces. It's like being in the middle of a giant conspiracy theory...more of an experience than a novel.

5. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, by Junot Diaz
20th-century history of the DR via Tolkien analogy. That's only one aspect of the book -- footnotes, really -- but I think it's super cool. The writing style is sprawling, but the novel itself is highly crafted. Amazing characters.

There you go. Not sure if anyone's still reading this; I'm probably just talking to myself. Expect a pre-college post soon, and if you have any questions, leave a comment and I'll answer it as well :)

stumbling in the neon groves

2011-08-11T20:26:00.002-04:00

Hi, it's been a while. This month has been strung together from family occasions, some more joyous than others. First, my father's father -- my Grandpa Sy -- passed away. He was a towering figure in my childhood, both physically and metaphorically: imagine Leonardo da Vinci in the body of Michelangelo's Moses, with the mouth of a sailor. This is what I said at the funeral service (keep in mind that this is a transcription, and to be perfectly honest: if your comment contains writing critiques, you have no soul and I will delete it).

I will never forget Grandpa Sy’s voice. It wasn’t just that he thundered, dominating as soon as he walked into a room; he was expressive – in a way that few people are able or brave enough to be. Grandpa Sy was blunt, sarcastic, never afraid to explore the unacceptable. He refused to tolerate pleasantries and vapid conversations and would bring up things like Oedipal Complex and ancient fertility cults at dinner. My dad would be furious at him for not watching his mouth around little me and Lulu. I thought he was the most fascinating man in the world. I learned a lot of words from him – not all of them nice. And over time, many of his passions – the science of dreams, archaeology, the concerto – became my passions as well. I loved how intense he was; I loved how he would fixate on details, like an artist. He was razor sharp. Nothing got by him.
I remember once, when I was maybe six or seven, he and Harriet took us to see The Lion King in New York City. Afterwards, he asked me, “did you think the play was exciting?” I said, “quite.” And for the rest of the day, whenever I asked a question, he would reply, “quite,” even if it didn’t make sense.

Writers have called death a secret society. It sounds like the kind of thing you’d like to explore, Grandpa Sy. I don’t know what’s out there; I just hope you aren’t bored, because I know you wouldn’t like that at all. Goodbye, Grandpa Sy. I’ll miss you.

On a far happier note, my mom's youngest sister got engaged! Everyone's favorite member of the family, Cindy is a loyal, witty, and generous friend. Cindy is the hardest worker I know: she is the author of a memoir, an employee at Walmart, and a talented pianist as well. She is an avid reader, a die-hard sports fan, and she holds a Special Olympics gold medal in swimming. She is a gracious hostess (who gives amazing toasts!) but if you play a card game with her, she will beat you. Every time. Her fiance, Raymond, is a very lucky man! Here are pictures from our trip out west. First, the lovely couple!

Congrats, Cindy!

My grandfather (Gong Gong) brought this 20 year old champagne out of the cellar to serve 60!

With my cousin Amalia, who is funny and brilliant (she'll be replacing me in New Haven this fall!) and puts this Tiger Cub to shame. In addition to Cindy's engagement, we were celebrating "graduations, birthdays, tenures, and life in general."

All of the cousins together, visiting Big Sur

Photos are Lulu's. Sorry my posts are sporadic-- if you're looking for rambling tiger cub tmi, follow my twitter :) How have all of you been finishing out your summers? I can't believe it's almost over. Also, who has influenced you, and how do you commemorate them?

musings of a lowly foodrunner

2011-07-23T11:02:00.000-04:00

Hi guys! Just wanted to share some anecdotes from my adventures in unskilled labor (and first paying job).

First off, general reflection: I LOVE WORKING. Of course, I realize my situation is a little artificial. I’m not working to pay the rent or put food on the table. But being out of the house, having responsibilities to fulfil and customers to please, even driving home late at night – it all adds up to a measure of independence and accountability that I find new/challenging/fun.

I like that my job is not glamorous. I’m quite literally at the bottom of the food chain: I bus food from the basement kitchen to the lounge upstairs. That’s half the job; the other half is about never standing still, essentially doing anything I can to help the chefs below and waitresses above. I try to do as much as possible, and it’s not really self-serving, because no matter what I’m still taking home minimum wage when the night is over. I like that a lot. It’s a far, far cry from what I’ve done in summers past, which – I’ll be honest – was about getting myself ahead. Many of you have inquired, so I’ll tell you: summer ‘08: family followed Lulu’s orchestra on tour in Europe; started learning chemistry and physics so my school would let me take them concurrently as a sophomore; tennis camp. ‘09: Russia and Sicily with the family; went to summer school (by choice!) to finish my requirements early so I could take a military history elective in the fall. ‘10: Germany and southern France with the family; interned at a psychiatric genetics lab in Boston for the rest of the summer.

with our awesome cousins in berlin.

Summer ‘11 is definitely a learning experience too, just of a different kind.

Okay. Now, purely for fun, I want to sketch a recent encounter that has to do with (!!) parenting as well...

Last Friday night.

It was a slow evening in the restaurant, so when we got a reservation for a party of 26, we eagerly accepted. We should have known better: their first question was, “is this place like Chili’s?” No, not really. The burgers here have a hint of Picasso. Desserts are evocative of the Guggenheim Bilbao. They showed up anyways; the group turned out to be some kind of elite, 16-year-old travel baseball team...plus an entourage of overprotective helicopter moms. You could picture them sauntering onto the field while the dads struggled behind like pack mules under duffel bags of gear. Right from the get go, they made a huge fuss about everything. All hell broke loose when I brought out the burgers. “I don’t like cheese.” “This relish is gross.” “I have a gluten allergy, take away the bun or I’ll die.” YOU’RE A TEENAGE BOY, EAT WHAT’S PUT IN FRONT OF YOU. Maybe that’s too callous. At least tell us you need it prepared with sterilized tongs and a string quartet before we cook it! Whatever you do, don’t take it out on the servers. A furious, blonde mom in capris almost had the waitress in tears. “My boy played a VERY STRESSFUL GAME today and he’s been waiting 45 MINUTES for his pizza!” She threatened to “post horrible reviews of this place online” and told me to can it when I apologized for the late pizza. I overheard the boys say they were considering Yale. Well, I hate to break it to you. You can be the best shortstop in New England, but you can’t walk into college with your mommy holding your hand. I like to think this is where tiger cubs have a slight advantage. We are not pampered, so we learn to solve our own problems No hard feelings, though. When the Yale coach comes courting, I hope for your own sake you’ll man up and eat the relish.

On that note, I’m psyched to be a Yankees diehard in Boston next year. I am ready, nay, super-pumped to be pelted with trash by belligerent fans at Fenway.

So that was a little Q&A, family history, and ranting mixed in. Anybody working in the restaurant industry with customer horror stories? Or work stories in general? How about advice for good college jobs? Leave me a comment :)

Out and About (fangirl 2.0?)

2011-07-15T16:35:00.001-04:00

Quick post here, mainly photos. The tigers have been lying low this summer, regaining a bit of normalcy -- my parents are both working on academic books, Lulu's playing lots of tennis, I'm reading, playing Prokofiev, and working at a restaurant downtown (if you're in New Haven, come to 116 Crown!). As a family, we're finally getting the chance to have home-cooked meals, catch up with friends, watch movies...it's great. I almost feel like nothing in my life has changed.

Except oh, yeah -- we met Lucy Liu last night. And talked to her. In Chinese! She and my mom actually look uncannily similar, and she was really nice to us. (She said she didn't have tiger parents, and kind of wished she had. On my end, I'm just becoming more and more convinced that all the most intriguing and successful people are self-made. Just my luck...) The event was a special screening of Snow Flower and the Secret Fan.

We actually high-jacked friend and architect Alexander Gorlin's studio for hair and makeup. First time I've read a Frank Lloyd Wright pop-up book while having my hair straightened. And yes, I borrowed Lulu's Time 100 dress for this. She's wearing my shoes. The three of us share (or fight over) clothes all the time at home.

Proof of non-celebrity status: walking onto the red carpet with an LG EnV touch in one hand, and camera in the other. Class right there.

We briefly met Nicole Kidman -- it was kind of funny, I think her hip and my mom's neck were roughly the same height -- and Keith Urban, which was surreal because I had been listening to "Better Life" on the drive up to the city. I think the coolest person we got to talk to, though, was Gabourey Sibide. I still can't believe this happened: emboldened by the open bar, my mom and I somehow cornered her and ended up pouring out our life story. And then I dropped my chopsticks onto her lap. I almost had a complete meltdown, but she said, "it's okay -- I'm just a girl sitting on a couch eating lobster." Anyways, I was already in awe of her confidence and talent. And now I find out she's incredibly kind as well :)

I actually have to run to work now. I think I owe you guys more Q&As right now! Keep the questions coming in the comments. And if you feel like it, you can vote TEAM TIGER CUB in this top bloggers thing I was nominated for. Or don't, that's cool too :)

Q&A: july edition

2011-07-06T12:03:00.003-04:00

Hey guys! Here's your latest q+a. Leave comments -- I want to hear more of your questions, and also your predictions for my upcoming college life! Anyways, enjoy...

If you give me some words of wisdom, I'm going to type it up and tape it in my locker in high school! - Chloe

"Crazy beats predictable, but do your homework first" – my loose paraphrasing of Sun Tzu’s Art of War

Seriously? Ganja pizza? Do you know what ganja is?

No, I live under a rock.

Do you have any study tips?

Just be honest with yourself. Study as much or as little as you want, but if you do a lousy job on something, don’t tell yourself you tried your best – it will make you underestimate what you’re really capable of.

What do you suggest for those of us who don't have a tiger mom, but...based on the apparent outcome..want a tiger parent? How can I get more disciplined without a tiger mother?

The key word there is "apparent." But okay, here’s my somewhat weird advice: go running every day. Even when it’s humid or raining or you are really busy. I’m not naturally fast or strong; running is by far my biggest source of self-discipline, and it helps in other aspects of my life. I ran a half-marathon this spring – it was really stupid of me, actually, I did it spontaneously between my morning and afternoon physics classes with no training – and since then, whenever I’m tempted to quit something, I tell myself, "Stop whining. You’ve done something infinitely more painful."

What is/are your favorite book(s)? What are you reading right now?

This will require its own post in the near future. For now: I love Hemingway. Of his works, my two favorites are A Moveable Feast and The Garden of Eden (I don’t care what people say about this one, I find it hypnotic). For best results, read A Moveable Feast and Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby at the same time. Right now, I’m in the middle of Kissinger’s new book, On China, and I just started War and Peace.

Why didn't your mom allow you to be in school plays?

She actually did allow me to be in one school play in preschool. I was a frog (it was a non-speaking part). I missed my cue and ended up disrupting the fairy dance, and all the other moms and dads gave my parents dirty looks. Since then, she’s just been protecting me from my natural lack of talent.

Why did you not apply to Princeton or Stanford? Why did you apply to UVA instead?

Have you seen the Princeton and Stanford applications? You have to write a dozen essays and jump through flaming hula-hoops just to make the first cut. It’s like hazing. As a rule, I try not to devote huge amounts of energy to becoming accepted. I’m a bit iffy on the whole college application process, but that’s a topic for another post. I picked UVA because it seemed like a really vibrant place, and I like the South. I think I’m one of 4 people in Connecticut who listens to country music. [edit: sorry, I realize this is a little unclear. I will not be attending UVA; I'll be at Harvard this fall.]

What are your views on corporal punishment?

I don’t have any personal experience to draw on, but I will say this: I think people tend to jump to conclusions and lump a wide spectrum of parenting philosophies together. Of course, there are dangerous extremes. But to call a spanking – or a two-hour piano practice session, for that matter – child abuse is insulting and dangerous to real victims of family violence. I think that’s my biggest issue with the uproar over my mom’s book. Sure, my parents were tough on me, but I grew up in a privileged and incredibly loving home. Vilifying the tiger mom is a way to sweep true child abuse under the rug. We don’t want to face the real problem, so we look for scapegoats instead.

What do you do when you get tired of studying? Did you really not watch TV at all? Do you really not hang out with friends?

FOR THE LAST TIME. I HAVE NO FRIENDS. NOT A SINGLE ONE. And what’s a "TV?" Does that stand for something? Forget this, I have to go take a physics test.

the chubenfelds do china

2011-06-30T16:48:00.005-04:00

Da jia hao! Got back from Asia last night. We spent the first few days doing media in Beijing and Shanghai...to make a long story short, I have newfound awe for my mom and anybody else who's ever gone on a booktour. Especially female authors, who have to do it in heels.

The Chinese reaction to Battle Hymn surprised me. First off, turns out the Chinese publishers renamed the book something along the lines of "Parenting by Yale Law Professor: How to Raise a Child in America." Major misconceptions right there already. Also, the Chinese translation is totally literal and devoid of humor.

We quickly found out a few things: 1) Fact: Between school, homework, and tutoring, Chinese kids typically do academic work from 7 am to 10 pm. Class ranks and test scores are posted publically on bulletin boards. "Learning should be fun" hasn't spread to China yet. In effect, the rigor of many Chinese schools makes tiger parenting a little superfluous on the mainland. 2) Many Chinese parents -- although still strict by American standards, e.g. they freaked out when we explained what a sleepover was -- are trying to raise their kids with more "Western" freedom and lenience. 3) Many other Chinese readers were taking my mom's comic list of "things her kids were never allowed to do" as the new 10 Commandments, and 4) Chinese parents as a whole are far less ambivalent than their American counterparts about wanting their children to attend a top college.

not actually a relevant photo, just breaking up the text

When my mom and I did panels, we often found the audience divided: half were ready to hate us for misrepresenting them to the outside world, half wanted a magic formula to get their kid into "Ye lu" or "Ha fo." The message we ended up communicating was "Find a balance, learn from the best of both worlds." The problem was, everyone saw my mom as an education expert, which she absolutely does not want to be (backstage she said to me, "How am I supposed to defend a position? I don't have a position! This is just my life!"). Still, she gave a really fantastic speech in Shanghai about the strengths of American education, like teamwork and serving the community. I did my interviews in Mandarin, and I'm pretty sure I sounded like a moron. At least it earned me some brownie points.

Anyways, here are more pictures.

We were lucky enough to have my mom's parents along for the trip! My grandmother is the original tiger mom, with big dreams and a wry sense of humor. My grandfather is basically a mad scientist, and the coolest person you will ever meet. We had a ton of fun in Beijing and Shanghai. Haggled like crazy -- I'm not a natural bargainer, but the vendors got this gleeful look in their eyes when they saw my curly hair and white father, so I had to go hard. The best was this one shopkeeper who said (in Mandarin), "Miss, you are robbing me! You speak Chinese so I didn't even try to cheat you!" Yeah, right :) Anyways, ate way too many soup dumplings and enough Peking duck for a lifetime. You can also see where I got my mouth and nose...

After that, we headed to Cambodia for 3 days. We saw Angkor Wat at sunrise and many of the surrounding temples (Ta Prohm, where giant trees grow right out of the ruins, was our favorite)...

We went to the Landmine Museum -- eye opener -- avoided Happy Herb's ganja pizza and the fried tarantulas (although both sounded intriguing), and rode elephants!! I love elephant trunks. If you hold out a bunch of bananas, the elephant can grab them with its trunk and stuff them in its mouth. Awesome. I also decided to reverse my feeling toward monkeys, which was unequivocal hatred because of ebola, as we saw some that were actually quite smart and cute.

So that's our trip in a nutshell -- all photos were taken by LULU unless she's in them.

I'm feeling another Q&A post soon! Leave a question in the comments. Any topic, feel free to be imaginative :)

all right, but only because i'm going to china

2011-06-18T08:21:00.001-04:00

I'm about to go silent again for a short while, so here's the rest of the speech. You'll notice there are parts of the text and video that don't match up, either because I was improvising or (more likely) I flubbed something :)
Explanatory notes: At my school, the senior class elects the valedictorian. Anyone in the top 20% of the class is a candidate. I go -- sorry, WENT -- to a small high school (127 graduating seniors this year), where most everyone knew and was incredibly positive about my mom's book. If you don't want to read/hear the whole speech, you can listen to 2 very short clips here (youtube) and here (my last post) instead.

I want to thank my wonderful teachers, family and friends who are here today, and my fellow seniors for giving me the honor of speaking. When I first started planning this speech a few weeks back, I realized that every possible speech has been done before. The reach-for-the-stars speech, the don’t-reach-for-the-stars speech, the speech about writing a speech – so I thought that instead of giving a speech of my own, for the next half hour or so I’d just read aloud from my favorite book: Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother.

Just kidding. I actually did write a speech. My friends, the unrivaled, indomitable class of 2011, today I want to talk about us. Along the way, I have just 3 things to say – and then let’s graduate.

So, seniors, who were we at Hopkins? We were the dream class. I don’t think any class in Hopkins history has spent so much time in the library, broken so many records, or possessed so much raw talent. We threw ourselves into our passions – as DJ’s, paramedics, and painters, running-backs, horse-back riders and center-mids – with unparalleled work ethic, integrity and zeal. We poured hundreds of hours into term papers and test preparations – and, well, it all paid off.

Yet somehow, we managed to have fun. Seniors, we were a class that crossed a lot of lines. We had ghostriding incidents, we put something in the water, and as far as I know, we’re the first Hopkins class ever to graduate in sunglasses.

Now all of this is wonderful. It’s who we are as a class. But the first point I want to make is that who you were at Hopkins doesn’t define who you will be for the rest of your life.

Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, a mother gave her children some paints to play with. Six out the seven kids painted puppets. The last kid took the paint and drew a life-size army battalion all over the walls of the room. That kid grew up to be Napoleon Bonaparte. Similarly, some of you already know exactly who want to be. Sam, I expect you to be president by our 30^th reunion; Alex I want to see that Nobel prize, and Adam, you better be a 5-star general.

Let me tell you another story. A couple years ago, studious girl from Tennessee, plays in the school marching band, aces the SAT and gets into Barnard College. Today, that girl is Ke$ha, spelled with a dollar sign.

“Just be yourself” – I know these are supposed to be words of freedom, and of course they are, but it seems to me they can also be constricting: when you change, people get scared. It takes bravery to step out of your comfort zone, and people will always have something to say about it. You make new friends, suddenly you’re a social climber. You wear a new outfit to school, and suddenly, oh you’re trying so hard. NO. Okay, maybe the denim jumpsuit was a bad idea. But don’t listen. You have absolutely no obligation to be who you are at 18 for the rest of your life. It’s not wrong to change.

“Be yourself” means “be whoever you want to be.” Not “be who your friends think you are.” Not “be the same person you were last year.” If you’ve always known what you want to be, more power to you. But it’s equally great if you wake up tomorrow morning thinking, “I’m gonna take a gap year to make a documentary in Cambodia.” “I know I signed up to do Teach For America this fall, but – I wanna start a hedge fund.” Dare to be who you’re not. The world has no right to tell you who you are, so don’t let anyone’s judgment or expectations hold you back.

That’s point one. Let’s first come back to who we are, class of 2011. I began this speech by saying we have crossed lines together. But let’s face the reality: we go to Hopkins. Sure, we all make a big show of living life on the edge. “Macbeth paper due next period? Haven’t started.” You hear that everywhere. But everyone knows that in 55 minutes, that paper will be on Mr. Johnson’s desk. That’s also part of who we are: we so want to be rebellious, but we always get the job done.

So I think there’s a good chance that, sometime in the future when we are free from the constraints of Hopkins, many of us will want to do more than talk about breaking the mold. And that’s point two. If you want to rebel, rebel in a way that matters.

There’s a quote I love from Lolita – and this is probably the first time a valedictorian thought it was a good idea to quote a child-molesting psychopath – that reads as follows:

“it occurred to me - not by way of protest, not as a symbol, or anything like that, but merely as a novel experience - that since I had disregarded all laws of humanity, I might as well disregard the rules of traffic. So I crossed to the left side of the highway and checked the feeling, and the feeling was good.”

A rebel has courage. A rebel undertakes personal risk for something they believe in. Anyone can say, “forget this,” cut class, smoke weed. You know why? Because it’s easy. It doesn’t make you a rebel. You’re a failing cog in the machine, but you’re still a cog in the machine.

If you don’t like the system, get out of the system. Because a lot of the time, the system is wrong. I don’t need to describe societal injustice; you know it’s out there. There is so much to fix. So often, the system is broken. Another mistake is to think that we have somehow maxed out, or “arrived.” With iPads, 3D-Printers, 4G networks, it may feel as though things can’t get any better, as though we’ve already made every possible breakthrough. But let me tell you, people felt that same way when fire first came out, and then stairs, and car-phones. There is ALWAYS something unfathomable around the corner. Instead of being shocked by the next earth-shattering discovery, make that discovery. Be the one salmon that swims downstream. Rock other people’s worlds.

If you want to be a rebel, don’t just break the rules: make the rules.

You could characterize rebellion as doing the WRONG thing for the RIGHT reason. My final point is that sometimes, it’s also okay to do the RIGHT thing for the WRONG reason.

What is the right reason to do the right thing? I think we, seniors, wrestle with this question all the time. We know too much to think people are saints. Seniors, you know what I’m talking about: you all filled out the CommonApp, and included the 5000 hours of community service and soup kitchens. It can make you more focused on the motive than the deed itself. You wonder if people actually care about the impoverished nation they’re holding a bake sale for. You want to volunteer at an animal shelter because puppies are cute, but also because girls go crazy for that sort of thing. And deep down, a voice inside you asks, “if I’m doing this for a selfish reason, should I be doing it at all?”

But again, don’t listen to that voice. Your motives may not be pure, but by taking action, you are doing more for the world than someone who does nothing at all. Doesn’t matter if that same voice says, “Working in a soup kitchen is so cliche.” Do it anyway. We’re too smart not to be cynical. But let’s be smart enough to be idealistic as well.

Well guys, this is it. The time has come to say goodbye: to your room, to your dog, to your childhood. Our time at Hopkins is over. For most of us, it’s the last time we’ll play on a varsity team, or know the name of everyone in our grade. All of us have toasted our last Ski Lodge Day marshmallows. We’ll never again be sent “off to class.” We’ve pledged our honor here for the final time.

So what have I said to you today? Dare to change. Dare to disobey. Dare to take action. My friends, you are brilliant, you are unbeatable, and now, I ask you to be bold as well.

If you go downtown, to the corner of College and Grove, you’ll find yourself at the Yale War Memorial. It’s quiet and cool, and the names of Yale’s fallen servicemen are carved on the walls. Above these names is an inscription, and very people know this, but that inscription was chosen by Hopkins’ own Simeon Baldwin in 1912. It reads, Courage disdains fame, and wins it. My friends, Hopkins class of 2011: Be courageous. Cross the line. Congratulations. Thank you.

Well, there it is. Leave a comment please! Again be gentle about my public speaking abilities :P

well look what the cat dragged in

2011-06-17T22:29:00.001-04:00

It's me! Back from the depths of senior spring, prom, and graduation.

Actually, I guess I owe you a better explanation for my disappearance. I think it had to do with my trip to the Midwest last month for Science Olympiad. My team decided to pull our first non-homework-related all-nighter by way of celebration, and at around 4:00 am we met some college kids from Minnesota. They were good-natured guys, totally drunk, and definitely knew nothing about Battle Hymn or who I was. As we talked and kidded around, I realized how good it felt to be anonymous. I didn’t have to prove I was normal, or justify or explain anything.

Don't get me wrong, it's not that I go around all day feeling special and victimized. Tiger cubbing has been a lot of fun-- meeting Stephen Colbert, touring Facebook HQ, getting free stuff -- and if I could go back in time, I'd do it all again.There are just certain things that I've lost -- like choosing how I present myself to strangers, without worrying about addressing their misconceptions -- that I realize how much I miss when I briefly reclaim them.

So I guess I just got addicted to the anonymity for a while. But that's life, right? And there's been some good, solid nastiness in the last few weeks that's dying for a bit of commentary.

First of all. As many of you noted, Anne-Marie Slaughter recently published an anti-tigercub piece. Her thesis: in order to be innovative, kids need lots of free time to "watch the birds" and "gaze out at the ocean." Now I know she's an influential Ivy League professor, but I'll put it out there anyway: I am totally unimpressed by Ms. Slaughter's argument. I won't go so far as to call it a cheap shot pandering to the masses (which it is), but I think we can all agree that it's not exactly an innovative thesis.
What really annoys me, though, is that Slaughter draws a false dichotomy between hard work and creativity. OF COURSE people need freedom to be creative! No one disagrees. The word "duh" comes to mind. But labeling Bill Gates and Mark Zuckerberg as "college dropouts" who just frolicked and "followed their passions" is a huge disservice not just to the innovators themselves, but also to a generation (mine) looking for guidance. Forget about how they got into college in the first place; I'm talking about the incredible hard work that precisely allowed them to innovate. Bill Gates didn't just go for a walk on the beach and invent Microsoft. He spent tens of thousands of hours writing code starting when he was 13 years old. Mark Zuckerberg didn't just watch cartoons and make Facebook. He took graduate-level computer classes and programmed games and software as a middle schooler as well. I don't know a lot about computer science, but what I do know is that it takes perseverance, determination, and hard-earned skill before creativity counts for anything.
So with all due respect, Professor, your article is not a "rebellion." And don't insult people who work hard at what they love.

Phew. Okay. Rant is done :)

Last thing. Now I really didn't want to do this because it's lame and braggy, but there are annoying rumors circulating about the speech I gave at graduation. So here are some clips to clear it up. If you want to read the whole speech, let me know in the comments and maybe I'll post it. Just don't judge my horrible speaking voice please!

Here's the opening: hauling that elephant right out of the room.

This was part of my second point. It's about rebelling, Lolita, and carphones (heh, I was improvising).

I hate mortarboards. Also, any other recent grads reading this? Congrats!! What is everyone up to this summer? Leave a comment :)

Mother's Day

2011-05-08T12:28:00.001-04:00

As we all know, my mom has standards for holiday cards. I do my best to be heartfelt and original. This was my first draft this year:

A rough sketch, I know. I cobbled something together in the backyard as well:

And I got one more thing, just in case:

I don't know. I always feel I owe my mom a lot on Mother's Day, mainly for giving birth to this:

(Dave is convinced I just googled "fat Asian baby," but sadly, that's me.)

So I still don't have a gift worthy of the Year of the Tiger. Help me by wishing my mom a happy Mother's Day on her facebook or twitter! And don't forget to call your mother!! (If you're already two steps ahead...what did you do for mother's day? Tell me in the comments!)

Happy Mother's Day, Ma. You're incredible. xo cub numero uno

Q&A: elves, dirt, and college decisions

2011-04-30T16:03:00.005-04:00

To Len Mirto:
Dear Lenny, I can’t believe you found my blog!! Every one of your comments brightens my day. You’ve seen us through good times, crazy times, and everything in between. I’ve always been inspired by your optimism, humor, bravery, and kindness. Thank you so much, and the invitation to a Chinese dinner still stands!

How did you get your mom to allow you to date? What’s your boyfriend like? Is he Asian?
I think you misspelled, "how did you persuade your dad to get off the porch with his shotgun?" Dating wasn’t really under the tiger mom’s jurisdiction in our house...David is white, but he passed The Szechuan Dinner Test with flying colors. He is left-handed, hilarious, and does not go big game hunting on the African plains in his spare time. That’s all I’m saying for now :] (but if you're really curious, he tends to pop up on the tiger twitter)

Why did you delete my comment?
I’ve been called every name under the sun (favorites: "halfbreed bitch," "meek automaton," "famewhoring squint-eyed kike slut,"). If I feel like reading insults and slander about me and my family, I’ll google it. That said, I’m totally interested in your respectful thoughts and criticisms. So by all means, keep being honest – just leave the racial/sexist slurs out of it.

Do you have a strange obsession?
Yes, actually. I have a bunch of cats that I shave every day, and I keep their hair trimmings in giant garbage bags in my room. Oh come on, I’m not that interesting! My obsessions are pretty mainstream. I’m big into Lord of the Rings...I have a pair of elf ears that I wear around sometimes...

Will you raise your children the same way? What will you change in your parenting style?
I’m dreading having kids. I can already hear my teenaged children saying, "There you go again, trying to be your mother. Seriously, go find a therapist."
There are definitely aspects of my upbringing that I'd like to replicate. I’m never going to be a professional pianist, but the piano has given me confidence that totally shapes my life. I feel that if I work hard enough, I can do anything. I know I can focus on a given task for hours at a time. And on horrible days when I’m lost and a mess, I can say to myself, "I’m good at something that I really, really love." I want my kids to have that confidence – confidence rooted in something concrete, not just "aww everyone’s a winner!!!" confidence, because in your heart you never believe that.
What would I do differently? Well, I agree that nothing’s fun until you’re good at it. Just because your 10-year-old doesn’t love running sprints isn’t an excuse to let him quit the team. (You think the other kids love running sprints? Nobody likes running sprints.) But fast-forward a couple years. If he gives it 110%, he’s state champion, and it still doesn’t bring him happiness. . .it’s time to stop. Ultimately, you need to love what you do.

What is your stance/opinion on LGBT issues?
My opinion really couldn’t matter any less, but to me it’s simple. Politically? It’s a free country. Religiously? I look at Michelangelo’s Pieta; I read Vergil's Aeneid...if there’s a god, there’s no way he wasn’t on their side. I don't know, that’s just the way I see it.

How are you spending your time as a second semester senior?
Believe it or not, I’m kind of the school tree-hugger. My friend Claire and I started a club called GOAT (Greenhouse Off-campus and Agriculture Team) in 2009, where we help the local Land Trust by renovating community gardens around New Haven. It’s rewarding work. I see a whole new side of my hometown, and I get to play in the dirt a lot. Second semester has been great because I’ve gotten out to the gardens a lot more often.

Have you decided where you’re going next year?
Somewhere wicked awesome.

Coming soon: as requested in the comments, a longer post about private school education. Also seeing lots of questions about my favorite things...might do a post on that too. Any favorites you want to know about? Or recommendations?

#fangirlproblems

2011-04-27T16:20:00.006-04:00

Heyo! Warning: my dad is rolling his eyes at this post, but at the end of the day, tiger cubs are just teenage girls. So...

Lulu and I snagged a pity-invite to the Time 100 cocktail hour in NYC last night. I think the argument was, "they could have been eaten by jungle cats, at the very least let them party!" So there we were: two relatively unknown and decidedly non-influential kids wandering around trailblazers and innovators -- neuroscientists, chefs, revolutionaries, performing artists -- who have done more than I ever will for the world.
Not to sound jaded and blasé or anything...but HOLY SHEEPSKIN KILT IT WAS REALLY REALLY COOL!! First of all, I didn't know "the red carpet" was literally a red carpet.

I tried to give myself pep-talks beforehand. "Come on, Sophia. Celebrities are people too. The rockstars may be intimidated by the scientific geniuses. The geniuses could be nervous around the slick politicans. And the politicians are definitely terrified of the SNL comics." So my M.O. was to act cool and confident and (more importantly) refrain from tackily attacking famous people. Well...that lasted all of fifteen seconds.

"Hi, I'm Bruno." --Bruno Mars

Sophia: I KNOW [because I've actually been worshiping you and your epic fedora from 5 feet away for the last few minutes!!!]

My mom made a joke about Tiger Mom vs. The Lazy Song.

Tigermom: My girls are obssessed with you...and how old are you, 12?

Brunomars: 12?! Nah, I'm 48.

Tigermom: I'm actually 48.

Brunomars: You're 48?!! I'm 23.

Sophia (regaining control of vocal chords): Wait. You also wrote F**k You, right?!?!

Brunomars: Yes...

Sophia: AAAAAAAH BRILLIANT NICE TO MEET YOU BYE!!

I love him.

Oh hey look, it's my hero...Mark Wahlberg is such a boss. If you haven't seen The Departed, The Fighter, and The Other Guys, please do so right now. He talked to my parents about parenting. From what I heard, he sounds like a fantastic dad. He then said it looked like Lulu and I "turned out to be fine and great kids." I might have passed out, not sure.

Turning the tables: Lulu (photocreds for all shots she's not in, by the way) started snapping the paparazzi.

Notice the wrist jewelry, from right to left: bracelet, watch...HAIR TIE. Lack of attention to detail. I need to get my life together.

We spent a lot of time gawking. "OH MY GOD IT'S DR. RAMACHANDRAN!!" (He invented the mirror box to cure phantom limb pain.) "LOOK LOOK LOOK IT'S RAIN!" (I'm a huge fan of Asian pop, but that's a topic for another post). We also spotted Martha Stewart, Chris Colfer (of Glee, championing an anti-bullying platform), Blake Lively, Wael Ghonim (used Facebook to catalyze peaceful revolution in Egypt), and Cory Booker (mayor of Newark) among others. Not all the honorees were there. As a soccer girlfriend, I was really hoping to see Lionel Messi. But he needed to do work against Madrid today, so he is forgiven :)

Because we were D-list, Lulu and I had to leave before the fancy dinner. Came back to New Haven and ended Passover with matzah brei (discovery: soaking the matzah in cider is like charoset for lazy people!!) followed by LEAVENED pasta. Quality evening.

What an embarassing post. I hope I've definitively convinced you that we are mere mortals (not tigers or devils or crazy Asian invaders from outer space or whatever). Next post will probably be Q&A, and then I might start rambling about things I like. How does that sound?

I Can Haz Tiger (not a cutesy wordplay this time)

2011-04-22T21:36:00.005-04:00

My mom made the Time 100 Most Influential list this year. They needed a picture for the article, so we had a top-secret photoshoot with two very special guests:

Meet Dale and Alia! Stunningly gorgeous animals. They move so elegantly. They came upstairs after eating a bunch of chicken carcasses in our yard.
Mom: "Could they...eat us?"
Trainer: "Oh don't worry, they just had lunch."

Dale reminded me of Pushkin. The dogs were locked in the kitchen the entire time...it kills me that they'll never know what that smell was! Is that a weird thing to be concerned about when there are two tigers in your house?

Beautiful eyes. So jealous that Lu got the tigers in her bedroom! I have a Vermeer print and a faux-blood-spattered "TONIGHT WE DINE IN HELL!" poster on my wall, so my room got nixed. Lulu's bed smelled like tiger (think wet dog meets the zoo) for a week.

Tiger cubs are super playful. Like godzilla kittens with razor-sharp claws. [Edit: Clarification: THE TIGERS WERE NOT DECLAWED. That's cruel.] You know how housecats will paw at your leg? Tigers do the same. They don't actively hunt humans (only polar bears do that, fun fact), but they could totally take you out in good fun.

They brought us tiger outfits in case Dale and Alia "didn't cooperate." Not pictured here: the fishnets, leashes, and striped tails... my dad took one look and was like, "Yeah, I don't think so." Not my cup of tea either. Luckily, the tigers behaved :)

The peerless Martin Schoeller at work...it was an honor to be in his discarded polaroids!

I wore that red dress to prom last year. I think it looked better on my mom...also, 99% of photocreds for this post go to LULU.

Hope you don't mind the picture-heavy post! Any questions about the tigers? Or anything else? Leave me a comment!

Dad

2011-04-21T16:35:00.003-04:00

Now, I know I’m going to take a lot of heat for this post, because obviously only creeps and sickos like BOTH their parents. But since a lot of you have asked about my mysterious dad – yes, I read every comment! – I’m going to take a crack at describing him.

I trust my father more than anyone else in the world. He inspires me and believes in me. He is fair, brutally honest, and brilliantly rational (even when the rest of us are freaking out about something). I want to be like him.

It would have been so easy for my dad to "score points" with me and Lulu by undermining my mom – but he never did. Looking back, I have huge respect for that. He may not identify as a tiger parent, but I know he wanted to raise us with what he thought of as traditional American values. My dad always demanded morality.

I’m way more scared of my dad than of my tiger mom, but my dad and I are also really good friends. We’re similar in many ways (people say I’m exactly half my mom, half my dad in personality): we love puzzles, take any challenge, and categorically need to do things our own way. We hate asking for help and are horrible at taking constructive criticism. We’re perfectionists who want to win at everything, even if we’re in no way qualified to do so.

My dad is unshakable, a perfect judge of character. He thinks like a chess player and rarely makes mistakes. Sadly, I didn’t inherit all those traits. So whenever I end up in an ugly situation ("Daddy, they’re trolling my blog online!" "Daddy, no one will take me to Prom because I’m going to Science Olympiad!" "Daddy, my omelet’s on fire. And do you smell a gas leak?"), I turn to him to save me.

Another difference between us is that my dad is actually good at everything. He runs the table at pool, always cleans up at poker, fought the mafia way back when, and his books don’t do too badly either. (One exception: my boyfriend killed him at ping-pong. Then he killed my boyfriend. Just kidding.) He tends to question the system, so he takes matters into his own hands. My dad wrote the Haggadah we use for Passover, and he formulated the only convincing interpretation I’ve ever heard of Hamlet’s "To be, or not to be" soliloquy.

It’s also my dad’s fault that I’m not girly. He read little-me books like Treasure Island and The Lord of the Rings, and since then I’ve preferred Balrogs to Barbies. He taught me how to throw a baseball (not that well, but I excel at watching the Yankees do it), jump-start and drive a car (stick shift’s still a work in progress), pan-fry a steak (rare as you can legally serve it, please).

When I think of my dad, I think of knowing the difference between right and wrong. I think of self-motivation, self-sufficiency, self-assurance.

I know he likes to stay out of all this tiger stuff, but I’m putting this out there anyway.

Thanks, Daddy. Love, your tiger cub

Q&A: Shopping, Stuffed Animals and Playdate Math

2011-04-14T09:46:00.005-04:00

Q: Why did you decide to start this blog?
A: When the whole world’s calling you a mindless robot, you kind of get the urge to start talking! Even though "Sophia" in the book is much more impressive than Sophia in real life. I think I’m sullying my impeccable image one post at a time, but so be it.

Q: So does Tiger Mom ever go Garfield (read: feel lazy)?
A: Absolutely...she has a ridiculous amount of energy, but eventually she burns out and collapses in bed. She’ll be like, "Sophia, get me my water bottle!" when it’s on her bedside table.

Q: I think many of people who read your mum's book wouldn't know satire if it hit them in the face. Do you feel the same?
A: It’s despicable to suggest her book is satirical, and I’m deeply traumatized. If you lay awake every night weeping over the charred remains of your stuffed animals, you’d be traumatized too. [edit: for the love of god, people, I'M KIDDING]

Q: What is it like getting up in the morning and getting ready for school with the tiger mom? Is it pretty hectic over there?
A: Lulu is the real tiger mom in the morning. I’d sleep through lunch every day if she didn’t drag me out of bed.

Q: What is your expectation of college life?
A: Sleep all day, rave all night. Learn by osmosis.

Q: Do you often go shopping with tiger mom?
A: There’s not much to buy in New Haven. Well, groceries. My mom knows how much I like driving (I have a license but no car), and she milks it. "Sophia!" She dangles the Jeep keys in front of my face. "You can drive to....STOP & SHOP!!!!" I take the bait every time.

Q: If your mother prevented you from going on play dates, sleep overs and participating in school dramas, shouldn't you have turned out to be socially incapable?
A: Thanks for asking – I’ve wanted to address this point since David Brooks published his op-Ed in the NYT. Let me indulge my not-so-inner nerd for a second: when you spend 7 hours at school a day, 180 days a year, for 13 years, you rack up 16,380 hours of social interaction. That’s the equivalent of over 3,200 five-hour playdates. So overall, I don’t feel too deprived.

Q: How do your friends and classmates feel about the situation?
A: My classmates, friends, and boyfriend have been the absolute best. When the people you know and like are on your side, it matters a lot less what angry strangers think. But NICE strangers’ opinions are super-super-important. They can/should be voiced in the comments section below :]

I'm at bulldog days right now...everything is absolutely incredible! So I'm curious about demographic here: who's reading this? Are you a teenager, a parent, somewhere in between? And what are you hoping to find on my blog? By all means suggest post topics. I'll write what you want to read. Leave me a comment!

Fo-shun Cookie...by Sophia AND Lulu

2011-04-10T11:51:00.002-04:00

The tiger mom really shines at Chinese restaurants. First, at least ten people come over to get her autograph and take pictures. Then we get the menu, and the fun begins. My mom knows the Hokkien dialect of Chinese, not Mandarin, so she orders in English. If the waiter doesn’t speak English, my mom thinks she can help him understand by faking a Chinese accent:

"We lahk tofu SPAH-CY!"
The waiter looks confused.
Lulu says, "Mommy, that’s not Chinese. Now none of us can understand you."
But the tiger mom keeps trying, until one of us finally translates (to put the waiter out of his misery).

Language barrier aside: wow, that woman can order Chinese food. There’s a ridiculous amount of dandan noodles, soup-filled dumplings, cumin beef, fatty twice-cooked pork, rice cakes, bok choy in garlic sauce, spicy intestines (which Lulu refuses to eat), soft tofu and mushrooms, and flounder stew, all of which we then da bao (take home as leftovers). My mom tells the waiter to wrap up the remains of EVERY dish, even if it’s just a puddle of oil. The waiter gives us the most judgmental look ever, so the tiger mom yells, "I can make 4 dinners of fried rice out of that!!" And while the waiter’s still scraping oyster sauce off 6 plates into a single takeout box, my mom turns to us and says, "We can’t let them think we’re wasteful, or NEXT TIME THEY’LL GYP US!" Then she leaves a 30% tip. "Generosity is a virtue," she tells us. "I know because I was a waitress myself. I was also a cashier at McDonald’s. Did you know my parents lived without heat in Boston the very first winter they spent in America? They wore blankets around the house to keep warm because they couldn’t afford heat. You kids don’t know the meaning of hard work."

We eat fried rice for the rest of the week.

Coming up: another Q&A post. What do you want to know about life with the tiger mom? Leave a comment/question below :)

ah you guys are actually reading this!

2011-04-06T22:04:00.003-04:00

Hey hey! I’m trying not to go nuts blogging because I figure you guys are already pretty sick of me and my family. But I promised to respond to your questions (from comments and emails), so here goes.

Q: Hi Sophia. Wow, is this really you? Or is this an April Fools' Day prank?

A: If I posted embarrassing childhood photos, would that convince you?

Q: What is your major?

A: Absolutely no idea. I’m glad I have plenty of time to decide. As of now, I am shying away from Pre-Med, Pre-Law, or Pre-any-other-predetermined-career-path.

Q: What music do you listen to?
A: A variety of things, and it changes by the week. The playlist I’ve been taking on my runs lately has Daft Punk, Cuban reggaeton, K’naan, and the Charlie Sheen autotune (best thing ever).

Q: Are those claw marks on your door?
A: Yes. Not mine, though (pianists have to keep their nails trimmed). Coco, the marginally more intelligent of my two dogs, claws at the door when she wants to go out.

Q: Tip for College: Party Hard, Study Harder, Pray Hardest!

A: Thanks for the incredibly nice post...and duly noted. :)

Q: Is it possible for you to give your SAT, SAT II and any other test scores?

A: I took the SAT once. I’m keeping all my scores private.

Q: Has anyone considered the fact that she'd attend Yale for free but would have to pay lots of $ for Harvard? It makes a huge difference, doesn't it?

A: Yale subsidizes a part of my tuition no matter where I go to school. My parents and grandparents are generously paying for my education, but I hope to repay them someday. Aside from tuition, I plan to be financially independent in college.

So here's a question for all of you: from everything you've read...what did you expect me to be like? Tell me in a comment. Be honest :)

clearing things up

2011-04-01T23:33:00.003-04:00

Hi everybody!

It's Sophia, the older tiger cub. I've decided to start a blog. Don't tell the Tiger Mom!!

Anyways. Although according to the ever-charming internet I'm already a freshman at Dartmouth, I'm actually an eighteen-year-old high school senior. And this morning, the internet told me I've "made up my mind" to attend Harvard next year.

To set the record straight, I applied to three schools last fall: Yale, Harvard, and University of Virginia. I was accepted to Yale under Early Action in December. I withdrew my application from UVA, and I was accepted to Harvard this Wednesday. I was shocked and thrilled to receive both acceptances, and I'm seriously considering both Yale and Harvard. Ashley's or J.P. Licks...Toad's or The T...tough call (although I am a huge fan of subways). I'll keep you posted.

In the meantime: if you're reading this, leave me a comment with questions, advice, or trolling. I can't wait.

xoxo tiger cub (not a Gossip Girl reference...I don't watch TV, remember?)