Authoritarian parenting is the style of parenting associated with low responsiveness and high demandingness. It is characterised by the assertion of power on the part of the parent and withdrawal of affection and support to coerce obedience in the child. In other words, it is centred around punishment rather than the nourishment of the child’s internal incentives to motivate behaviour. This style of parenting is prevalent in Asian societies, and less common in the West. Its harmful effects are well-documented: the children of such parents are more likely to become socially withdrawn and suffer from emotional problems as adults^[2]. I think that this style of parenting is especially harmful to children who have been diagnosed as gifted. At any rate, at this current moment, the above is certainly an apt description of my state.

I am a part of the “Hong Kong diaspora”, people who have emigrated from Hong Kong to escape from having to live under Communist rule. Of course, like any other group of people, there is a great deal of internal variation, but at the same time, certain commonalities characterise this community. In common with other Chinese communities, there is a rigid belief in hierarchy and a strong work ethic — but of a particular kind. If I had to summarise the culture of the Hong Kong diaspora with a motto, it would be this: “Work hard — but do only what you are told.” The effect of this mentality is that members of the diaspora excel at business and are overrepresented in professions such as engineering, medicine, and any other field where one can do modestly well merely by memorizing facts and following procedure. Conversely, they contribute disproportionately little to literature or the arts or other endeavours requiring unrestrained creativity. (This fact can be attested to by anyone who has ever walked between the arts and engineering sections of any major university campus in North America. The change in demographics — and in the number of conversations in Cantonese — is startling.)

What I have to say about the harmful effects of authoritarian parenting are not specific to the Hong Kong diaspora, but applies mutatis mutandis to other immigrant and ethnic groups as well. When I was growing up in Canada, I noticed that many of my friends and acquaintances also have parents who are the same way. Whereas Chinese parents may favour engineering, Indian parents prefer medicine, Jewish parents prefer law, and so on — but the pressures they put on their children are the same.

The Chinese community is often praised for being a “model minority” which, amongst other things, consistently produces students with better grades than the class average. But this apparent academic achievement is illusory. My own observation, in interacting with my classmates, is that the grades of children with authoritarian parents are artifically inflated. You always find them in exclusive (and often ethnic) cliques copying assignment answers off each other. Well of course they can “answer” more questions and their marks are better than those of students who do their own work! But their actual understanding of the material is considerably weaker. They exist only to study and have no social life outside of their study group. When I say that they are exclusive, I mean that they are exclusive unless they know that you have a higher grade than they do — in which case you’re welcome to join them! I always declined their invitations, because I prefer understanding to getting high marks.

My parents always pressured me to study with other Chinese students only (and preferably ones from Hong Kong). But they didn’t tell me this explicitly. Instead, they continually criticised every non-Chinese friend I had, and would speak nicely only about the ones who had parents who shared their background. (And they always referred to my friends as my “classmates”, even when they weren’t. In fact, I don’t recall them ever referring to anyone as a “friend” — it was always a “former classmate”, a “co-worker”, etc.) But their tactic didn’t work on me, because I could clearly see for myself that it would be detrimental. First of all, why should I limit myself by restricting my social circle? Secondly, if I studied the way these people “studied” — by rote memorisation and copying — I might possibly get a boost in the current assignment, but when the next one came around which built on the knowledge of this one, I won’t understand it as much as I would if I had solved it myself. I collaborated with people, but I never copied. And thirdly, whenever I did interact with these people, they really annoyed me. I would be trying to explain the thought process behind a particular problem to them, and they’d cut me off with “Okay, okay. But what’s the answer?” So they might have above-average marks, but they were poor students.

There were many instances like this, where my parents continually pressured me to do something (or not to do something), and I resisted them. I believe that many gifted children are actually driven away from science and academia (or whatever field their talent lies in) by their authoritarian parents. There is a very heavy emphasis on book learning in Chinese culture, due to the traditional importance placed upon memorisation of texts such as the Analects of Confucius, to the detriment of real learning. I was continually punished by my parents for reading books outside the curriculum, or for learning by actually doing something instead of reading about it from a book.

And here is why I think authoritarian parenting is especially harmful to children who have been diagnosed as gifted. Most of the other children with authoritarian parents listened to or were influenced by their parents. They limited their intellectual horizon by forming cliques with other children who have the same backgrounds and ignoring everyone else, and they raised their marks artificially by copying each other’s homework. They keep this up through high school, and then university — then wham! The majority can’t adjust to having to think for themselves, they drop out (or switch to an easier programme), which thins the ranks of the cliques, which then can’t sustain their marks, then more people drop out, and so on. I knew a lot of people who had really excellent grades in high school but did very poorly in university. Their parents had wanted them to get post-graduate degrees, but they couldn’t — because they had listened to their parents. So they drop out or graduate, and go off to work, which isn’t a bad thing, because it gives them freedom from their parents. The parents end up disappointed, but that’s about it.

But when the authoritarian parent tries to boss around a gifted child, he resists. He thinks to himself, “What they want me to do is wrong, it’s counterproductive, I won’t do it.” The authoritarian parent can’t accept that. The gifted child tries to explain, but discussion is not allowed. The parent raises his voice, or his hand — things escalate. And one of two things happens. It may be that the child’s will breaks and he obeys. Then he is constrained from fully developing his talents, he starts viewing things in terms of percentages and averages instead of learning and understanding, his grades slip for exactly the reasons I have outlined above, and then he is blamed by his parents for failing. Because, in their minds, obedience equals success, and if it actually results in failure, it must be because their child did something wrong. On the other hand, the child knew the entire time what the outcome would be, but was helpless to stop it. Even worse, because everyone had told him that he was gifted, he’s performing below his own expectations, disappointed with himself, and falls into a depression.

I’ve seen the above happen to several people I know who were diagnosed as gifted as kids and who have authoritarian parents. When I encountered them, they were leading very screwed-up lives. Some drank heavily or self-medicated in some other way, or were skirt chasers, or whatever. (Rumour even has it that a former classmate is now a gigolo.) So it’s not easy to be diagnosed as gifted, because the expectations are much higher, and so is the fall.

The other possibility is to resist all the way. I know only a very few people who took this route, and none of them have a good relationship with their parents. But it seems to me that this is the only way I can accomplish what I have set out to do with my life, and so it is the route that I have taken.

– davinci

Related posts:

1. Miscellaneous articles about raising gifted children, from Scientific American
2. Gifted program in Mississauga
3. Why and for whom am I writing this?

This may or may not actually be true, but it has the effect of creating a vicious cycle. When I was young, I read a lot of biographies and autobiographies of famous and successful people. In some cases, their parents were not mentioned, or they were deceased. But whenever there was a reference to living parents, their influence was inevitably described as positive. Of course, the sample is biased — people with unsupportive parents have no reason to bring them up and would tend to be disinclined to discuss them.

This places a double burden on the child with unsupportive or abusive parents — firstly, he has to cope with their behaviour, and secondly, he must do so without role models with which he can fully identify. While I was growing up, I always wondered what these people about whom I was reading would do if their families had opposed their work. Would they still have accomplished what they did? It seemed to me that while having supportive parents was not absolutely necessary for success, having disruptive parents would be very debilitating and would prevent anything from getting accomplished.

I could have spent the past decade and a half making more contributions to science and to society. Instead, most of my energy and efforts were taken up with maintaining a focus on my studies while sustaining a continuous barrage of attacks against science and against the culture of science by my parents. But as the saying goes: “When life hands you lemons, make lemonade.” I have spent a lot of time thinking about science and science-related issues such as its role in and its effects on society. I had really wanted to write publicly about these things, but my parents prevented me from doing so. So I will write instead about my experiences growing up with physically and emotionally abusive parents, and how I coped with it.

I started writing an autobiographical account as a part of my talk therapy with UW Counselling Services. I have decided to make it public, because I think that there are many people out there who can benefit from my experiences. There are, first of all, the young people whose parents are unsupportive of their academic or creative endeavours. When I found myself in that situation as a youth, I really wished that I had someone whose experiences I could relate to. Then there are those who are in the situation that I am in now: unable to concentrate on academic work because of personal problems. The latter is probably rather common — there are a huge number of problems graduate students have to deal with, such as depression, poverty, illness, homesickness, and so on. But I suspect that there are a significant number of the former as well, who are not visible because they feel that they have no one to turn to. I know because I was in that position myself.

I think the parents of gifted children would benefit from reading about my experiences as well. There are probably hundreds of books and web sites on the subject of raising gifted children. They universally agree on the sorts of things such parents should do: encourage the child’s interests, listen to the child’s teachers, and so on. But I don’t know of anyone who has written about what it is like to be a gifted child in an environment in which the parents always acted in exactly the opposite manner to how the parents of a gifted child ought to behave. My observation of other parents while I was growing up was that most of them also behaved in ways which, it was obvious to me, impeded the growth of their children.

Finally, I am of course also writing this for myself. I am in a rut in my studies and cannot move forward. I feel that the course of my life has been derailed by circumstances entirely beyond my control, but I also recognize that I am the only one who can change my predicament. So I am writing about my life publicly to motivate myself to get back on track, to commit myself to this project of change, and so that I would be held accountable for those changes.

– davinci

Related posts:

1. Authoritarian parenting and its harmful effects on gifted children
2. Overcoming my writer’s block, part 3: science writing in high school
3. Writing my Ph.D. Research Proposal live