One of the most difficult challenges I had growing up was simply dealing with the smack I’d get from my American friends whenever I obediently followed my mother’s rules. I spent most of high school wanting to shake off that “overachieving Asian” stereotype – mostly out of my own social need to be accepted, rather than out of a personal vendetta against my mom.

I used to think very critically of this kind of parenting, to be honest. I’d look at my non-Asian counterparts, who were allowed the liberties I was denied, and wonder if I would’ve been a happier high schooler or grade schooler if my mom wasn’t so strict. Maybe. What is there to gain from being raised in a world without sleepovers? A world with aching fingers because we were made to practice our violins until our hands cramped up? I don’t know. A good topic for a book, I guess. (kidding)

Anyways, what I do know is that our parents act in our best interest, whether we are Asians, Caucasians, Bananas, or Apples. It could take years for some us to realize that. Others never do. Call ‘em Tiger Moms or just plain bitches if you will… but surely somewhere along the line, they did something right.

I can only hope to be half as good a mother as my mine is.