The Asian parent is not the villain

The “Type A” personalities aren’t rooted in our DNA, but in circumstance

Among the stereotypes that we have warmly embraced, is the image of Asian parents as unforgiving, obstinate, red-eyed disciplinarians who specialise in crushing kids’ dreams.

For the convenience of the colonial gaze, allow me to lump all diverse ethnicities and cultures that comprise the South, East, and Central Asia under the comprehensible banner of ‘Asian people’. God knows what Kazakhstani parents are like; all we’ve decided is that they’re not famous enough to merit their own stereotype yet.

The cruelty of the generic Asian parent is taunted endlessly in popular media. A cutaway scene in Family Guy – a show’s that’s never really been the face of political correctness – limns the entire stereotype well within four seconds. An Asian dad peeks into his son’s room and testily asks if the kid’s a doctor yet. The studious child replies in negative, and reminds his father that he’s only 12. In an accented voice, the father angrily retorts, “Talk to me when you docta!”, and swiftly exits the room.

It’s not just the Western world that is aware of how strict an average Asian parent can be. Movies like Taare Zameen Pe and Ho Mann Jahaan all use ‘strict parents’ as the primary antagonists. These are avaricious and stubborn monsters who have no ethical qualms scolding, beating, emotionally blackmailing or psychologically tormenting their offspring in order to mold them into a shape of their own choosing. The good guy – or gal – is whatever colorful figure flutters into the dreary world of ‘practical thinking’, and encourages the protagonist to follow his dreams.

We are, of course, assuming for now that this idea is true. As the bigot casually and repeatedly states, there is truth to some stereotypes, and they don’t come out of thin air. Let’s not challenge that supposition for the time being. What we can safely think about, is whether this culture stems from the very ‘Asian-ness’ of these parents, or other socioeconomic circumstances.

China and India collectively account for more than a third of the world’s population, and 60% of Asia’s. Most of this population lives in conditions ranging from unenviable to unimaginable. Not even considering the 23% of Indians, and 13% of Chinese people living below the poverty line, there is enough misery to go about for everyone with the exception of the top 5-10%.

Both countries share a turbulent history with the British empire, having suffered tremendously – if not equally – under Western imperialism. The Indian subcontinent, in particular, was a postcolonial basketcase which in 1947, had only begun reeling from the effects of having over a hundred years of its existence dedicated to the needs of the lords and ladies in England. What’s possibly more upsetting, is the acceptance of colonialism – and the following neocolonial model – as a benevolent influence.

The economic woes were compounded by the reluctant surrender to neoliberalism, as it seemed impossible to survive in a world, if not on the terms set by the wealthier nations – the same nations that owed much of their economic progress to labor and resource contributed by the Southern Hemisphere. Consider, for example, why an upper-middle class family can afford not to teach its children Urdu, or any of the other local languages like Punjabi or Sindhi; but it is unthinkable to not teach their children English. The rationale is that an ability to acquiesce to the linguistic, political, or economic practices of the ‘developed’ nations – little progress can be made, both on personal and national scales.

Regrettably, capitalism is a system that fundamentally favors those with capital. And for civilisations that had had their capital siphoned out of them and transferred to Europe; their investment power was limited, and so was their potential for progress relative to the already powerful “first world” nations.

The much ridiculed ‘Asian parent’ is cognisant of the economic structure that he and his children are bound to. Living in oft overpopulated countries, the competition for basic resource is generally intense – to say the least. Furthermore, these are non-welfare states where social security cannot be assured to billions of impoverished citizens – who are left entirely to fend for themselves.

To allow children to “do whatever they want” and “be whoever they want to be”, it is vital to have space for career experimentation – and more importantly, room for failure. In societies where no safety net exists, parents are likelier to compel their children to choose paths that are tried and tested; rather than allowing them to venture into unsafe places.

As middle-class citizens correctly perceive, fields like medicine and law ensure respect and dependable income. You may find a musician playing a guitar on the street for money (or busking), but you’re highly unlikely to find a medical doctor offering inexpensive oral examinations at a public park.

People are merely people, and adapt to the circumstances they are exposed to. The classic tough love of an Asian parent is not rooted in his race, or even his culture for the most part; but the stormy socioeconomic seas that they are forced to navigate their way through. Exploring new islands is tempting, but self-preservation takes precedence, and the soul looks for pre-discovered lighthouses that ensure survival.