Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother - Amy Chua [39]
“What was that?” asked Mrs. Vamos.
“It’s our dog, Coco,” explained Lulu.
“I love dogs. And yours looks really cute,” said one of the most famous violin teachers in the world. “We can see how those violins sound tomorrow too,” she added. “I like the Italian, but maybe the French one will open up.”
Back at the hotel, I was trembling with excitement. I couldn’t wait to start practicing—what an opportunity! I knew that Mrs. Vamos was surrounded by driven Asians, but I was all the more determined to astonish her, to show her what we were made of.
I pulled out the Mozart score, just in time to see Lulu sink into a comfortable armchair. “Ah-h-h,” she sighed contentedly, leaning her head back. “That was a good day. Let’s have dinner.”
“Dinner?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Lulu, Mrs. Vamos gave you an assignment. She wants to see how fast you can improve. This is hugely important—it’s not a game. Come on. Let’s start.”
“What are you talking about, Mommy? I’ve been playing violin for five hours.” This was true: she had practiced all morning with Kiwon before going to see Mrs. Vamos. “I need a break. I can’t play more now. Plus it’s five-thirty already. It’s dinnertime.”
“Five-thirty is not dinnertime. We’ll practice first, then reward ourselves with dinner. I’ve already made reservations at an Italian restaurant—your favorite.”
“Oh-h, no-o-o,” Lulu moaned. “Are you serious? What time?”
“What time what?”
“What time is the dinner reservation?”
“Oh! Nine o’ clock,” I replied, then regretted it.
“NINE? NINE? That’s crazy, Ma! I refuse. I refuse!”
“Lulu, I’ll change it to—”
“I REFUSE! I can’t practice now. I won’t!”
I won’t get into the details of what ensued. Two facts should suffice. One, we didn’t have dinner until nine. Two, we didn’t practice. In retrospect, I don’t know where I got the strength and temerity to fight Lulu. Just the memory of that evening makes me feel exhausted.
But the next morning, Lulu got up and on her own went to practice with Kiwon, so all was not lost. Jed suggested in the strongest terms that I go for a long run with Coco far, far away, which I did. At noon we went back to Mrs. Vamos, Kiwon accompanying us, and the session again went very well.
I had harbored hopes that Mrs. Vamos might say, “I’d love to take Lulu on as my student. Is there any chance of your flying out to Chicago for lessons once a month?” To which I would have said yes, absolutely. But instead Mrs. Vamos suggested that Lulu work intensively with Kiwon as her teacher for the next year. “You won’t find anyone with better technique than Kiwon,” Mrs. Vamos said, smiling at her former student, “and Lulu, you have a lot of catching up to do. But in a year or so, you might think about auditioning for the Pre-College program at Juilliard. Kiwon, you did that, right? It’s extremely competitive, but if you work really hard, Lulu, I bet you could get in. And of course, I hope you’ll come back and see me next summer.”
Before getting on the road for New Haven, Jed, the girls, and I drove to a nature reserve and found a beautiful swimming hole surrounded by beech trees and small waterfalls, which our inn-keeper had said was one of the hidden gems of the area. Coco was afraid of going into the water—she’d never swum before—but Jed gently pulled her in to the deep center, where he let go of her. I was afraid Coco would drown, but just as Jed said she would, Coco dog-paddled safely back to shore while we clapped and cheered, toweling her off and giving her big hugs when she arrived.
That’s one difference between a dog and a daughter, I thought to myself later. A dog can do something every dog can do—dog paddle, for example—and we applaud with pride and joy. Imagine how much easier it would be if we could do the same with daughters! But we can’t; that would be negligence.
I had to keep my eye on the ball. Mrs. Vamos’s message was crystal clear. It was time to get serious.
19
How You Get to Carnegie Hall
Sophia and her taskmaster (with my father watching)
My heart sank. The score looked