Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother - Amy Chua [47]
The next morning, with Lulu white as a ghost and barely able to walk, we took her to Juilliard. She was wearing a yellow and white dress and a big bow in her hair, which only made her face look more drawn. I thought about canceling the audition, but we’d poured so many hours into preparing that even Lulu wanted to do it. In the waiting area, we saw Asian parents everywhere, pacing back and forth, grim-faced and single-minded.They seem so unsubtle, I thought to myself, can they possibly love music? Then it hit me that almost all the other parents were foreigners or immigrants and that music was a ticket for them, and I thought, I’m not like them. I don’t have what it takes.
When Lulu’s name was called, and she walked bravely into the audition room by herself, my heart almost broke—I almost gave it all up right then. But instead, Jed and I plastered our ears to the door and listened as she played Mozart’s Third Concerto and Gabriel Fauré’s Berceuse, both as movingly as I’d ever heard her play. Afterward, Lulu told us that Itzhak Perlman and Naoko Tanaka, the famous violin teacher, had been among the judges in the room.
A month later we got the bad news in the mail. Jed and I knew the contents of the thin envelope instantly; Lulu was still at school. After reading the formal, two-line rejection letter, Jed turned away in disgust. He didn’t say anything to me, but the unspoken accusation was, “Are you happy now, Amy? Now what?”
When Lulu came home, I said to her as cheerfully as I could, “Hey, Lulu, honey, guess what? We heard from Juilliard. They didn’t accept you. But it doesn’t matter—we didn’t expect to get in this year. Lots of people don’t get in their first time. Now we know what to do for next time.”
I couldn’t bear the look that flashed over Lulu’s face. I thought for a second that she was going to cry, but then I realized she would never do that. How could I have set her up for such a disappointment? I thought to myself. All those hours we put in were now big black stains on our memory. And how would I ever get her to practice—
“I’m glad I didn’t get in,” Lulu’s voice interrupted my thoughts. She looked a little angry now.
“Lulu, Daddy and I are so proud that—”
“Oh stop it,” Lulu snapped. “I told you—I don’t care. You’re the one who forced me to do it. I hate Juilliard. I’m happy I didn’t get in,” she repeated.
I’m not sure what I would have done if I hadn’t received a call the next day from—of all people—Naoko Tanaka. Miss Tanaka said that she thought Lulu had auditioned wonderfully, showing unusual musicality, and that she herself had voted to accept Lulu. She also explained that a decision had been made that year to downsize the Pre-College violin program; as a result, an unprecedented number of applicants had competed for unprecedentedly few spots, making it even more difficult than usual to get in. I was just beginning to thank Miss Tanaka for her considerate call when she offered to take on Lulu as a student in her own private studio.
I was stunned. Miss Tanaka’s private studio was famously exclusive—almost impossible to get into. My spirits soared, and I thought quickly. What I really wanted was a great teacher for Lulu; I didn’t care that much about the Pre-College program. I knew that studying with Miss Tanaka would mean driving to New York City every weekend. I also wasn’t sure how Lulu would react.
I accepted on Lulu’s behalf on the spot.
22
Blowout in Budapest
Lulu and Sophia on stage at the Old Liszt Academy
After all those excruciating hours preparing for the Juilliard audition, and then the food poisoning and the rejection letter, you’d think that I would have given Lulu a break. I probably should have. But that was two years ago, when I was much younger, and I didn’t. Easing up would have been selling Lulu short. It would have been the easy way out, which I saw as the Western thing to do. Instead, I jacked up the pressure even more. For the first time, I paid a real price, but nothing like