Housewife – it’s a label I write down under “Occupation” when arriving at the immigration counter in foreign countries. Not only is it innocuous and benign, like the weird freckle on your upper arm but it’s easily dismissible, much more so than the term journalist. I’ve learned that introducing myself as a housewife to strangers will preempt any further small talk and free me to hoard the caviar bowl at the swankier kind of cocktail parties.

Housewife or its politically correct sister, “stay-at-home mom” has raised its chipped-nail-polish fists recently in the US presidential primary elections. Brouhaha erupted when Democratic strategist Hilary Rosen said Ann Romney, the wife of the Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney, “never worked a day in her life”, because the mother of 5 boys chose to stay at home and raise her children, all the while battling multiple sclerosis and breast cancer. Pointing a loaded gun to a kitten’s head wouldn’t have caused as much outrage and Mitt’s party is now dancing with family-friendly glee. The Democrats, in damage control mode, have since disavowed Rosen and learned in one fell swoop that it’s not nice to bite the hand that diapered you.

Speaking about family values, Bo Xilai, the disgraced Communist Party secretary of Chongqing defended the recent financial allegations against his spouse by stating the rumors were completely spurious because she “was just a housewife”. Tellingly, on the additional charge of murder against his wife Gu Kailai, there was “no comment”.

We’re judged on our contributions to society. Doctor, lawyer, CEO – the greater number of people impacted by your actions, the greater status you’re allotted. In that respect, it’s no wonder stay-at-home moms are regulated to the bottom rungs of the ladder. How many persons are you going to influence? Unless you’re Octo-mom, you’re looking at less than a handful. And you won’t see the full fruitation of your achievement until they’re long gone from home, when they can selfishly claim it was their education or talent that got them to where they are – talent and work ethnic that you helped hone.

Since the 80’s when mothers routinely worked outside of the home; the favored status of the stay-at-home mom has plummeted off a sheer cliff. It’s telling that the fall from grace has been in many ways due to the mommy wars – career mom versus stay-at-home mom. When women meet other women, there’s the initial parlay where when asked “What do you do?” the stay-at-home mom will stumble about an answer and the career mom will condescendingly say something akin to “I wish I could stay at home too”. Really? Ditch the power, status and bonus checks for days spent in sweat pants, dealing with grade school paper mache projects and working with inept volunteers who to your frustration, can’t be fired? All for payback that you won’t see for 20 – 30 years? No wonder the stay-at-home dad is still listed as an endangered species.

Crudely-drawn greeting cards, spray-painted macaroni photo frames and the occasional phone call are the rewards for the stay-at-home mom. There’s no pension plan, no salary, no sick days or paid vacation. The shoes of a stay-at-home mom are often bigger than many of us are selfishly willing to fill.

So yes, if nothing else, call your mother today and thank her for her sacrifices, seen and unseen. Whether she was always home to greet you after school or throwing dinner together after a day at the office, both sides will agree, being a mother is the best job in the world.

So is it with suspicion that people give me the third degree as to “where I’m really from when I say I was born in Canada?” What do they honestly want to hear? My husband who also hails from an industrialized nation, though not as polite and socialist as my own has never been asked that question at a cocktail party. What sets us apart? Only the color of our skin and possibly, unspoken insinuations of where our loyalties actually lie.

In the recent web spying case which led to the suicide of American Tyler Clementi, Dharun Ravi was found guilty of invasion of privacy. The majority of US news reports described the felon Ravi as Indian-born. William Chi-Wai Tsu, is under lock and key for illegally shipping to China integrated circuits which could be used in military radar systems. Again, in the news, Tsu was pointedly described as a naturalized U.S. citizen, in other words “born elsewhere and not to be trusted”. Even the US president Barack Obama has been dogged with issues surrounding his place of birth, with political opponents stating that he doesn’t meet the requirement as a natural-born citizen – I guess someone should tell Hawaii it’s no longer welcome as the 50th US state.

Since Adam and Eve begat Caine and Abel, one’s birthright has proved to be more than a benign designation or plan of succession. Today, tangible government benefits are intertwined with one’s birthright. Jus soli, Latin for right of the soil is a right by which nationality or citizenship can be recognized to any individual born in the related state. There are 35 nations that follow jus soli, with Canada and the USA being the only 2 industrialized nations to do so. There are no countries in Europe that offer birthright citizenship and only one in Asia – Pakistan. Currently, Hong Kong hospitals are groaning under the burden of mainland mothers skipping over the border to give birth and receive in addition to better maternity care, the right to permanent residency in Hong Kong, 12 years of free education, and unlike China passport holders, visa-free travel to many foreign countries. From the suburbs of Markham, Ontario to Queens, New York to Tucson, Arizona, birth tourism has turned out to be a money-maker for small mom & pop operations who wheel in watermelon-bellied mothers to the maternity ward and wheel out the “anchor baby” with a foreign passport and a promise in 21 years that the family will be back again – legally.

But is there any other time when you are in least control of your life as when you’re born? Yet we attribute our authenticity to the whereabouts of our location at birth. Yes, I am loyal to my country not only because I was born and raised there, but what it taught me in values, community spirit and how to start every sentence with “Sorry” and end it with “eh!”

In the end though, is birthright no more than the luck of the draw? Does the litmus test of our allegiance hinge on a specific time and place? Should we not instead go through an assessment to show our loyalty? Well, in a way we do – once a year, I hear the auditors call it, “not cheating on your taxes”.

Mean Girls, we like to believe are an unpleasant vestige of our youth, that we’ve left behind those days of being socially streamed into either the popular cliques or the after-school clubs of outcasts, but insecurity and status tend to shadow us into our adulthood.

Most of us at one time or another have upon meeting new acquaintances, received the 30 second verdict. To be fair, we ourselves crank up the scanner as well. For men, this is the time when bragging rights over their stock market portfolio, property listings, Phuket vacation home and name card details trumps any thinning hairline, rice barrel belly and leather-like man purses.

But women, even commanding women are made to walk the plank of style over substance. Hilary Clinton, arguably one of the most powerful women in the world has to withstand as much criticism over her efforts as the US Secretary of State as in her choice of clothing. A peaceful end to the Israeli – Palestinian conflict would be appreciated so much more if only she negotiated the pact in a slimming Chanel creation rather than the department store pants suits she favors.

Ironically, Mean Girls/Women who are largely insecure themselves, prey on the cultural messages that heighten our own insecurities. The modus operandi is to form a power base of selected insiders and grow stronger through excluding others.

However, with age comes maturity or does it? Do we really care if we’re seen as winners or losers? Honestly, many of us do. We place a value on ourselves according to what we accomplish against the shifting winds of society. We place that same judgment on others in line to their achievements and possessions. And it all becomes an ocean of subjectivity.

Accessing each other by our accomplishments, looks, and background though, is a game for suckers. It was Ecclesiastes who viewing mankind’s drive wrote “But as I looked at everything I had worked so hard to accomplish, it was all so meaningless—like chasing the wind.” He observed that tangible items are useless once we die, our deeds are quickly forgotten by the living, and the wealth we build up is passed to others who we have no control over.

It’s comforting to know that the real measure of a man or woman can be made by the positive impact they had on others. The sibling who always had your back on the schoolyard. The friend who patiently listened to your woes. The chatty neighbor who solicited donations for the homeless shelter. Your boss who acted as your sounding board long after you left the company. Your spouse who forgave you too many times to count.

Our true value is not subject to the prescribed thoughts and conditions of others. Our true value is the legacy we leave in life and in death. It cost me a Double Ice Mocha, but the Uggs girl and I ditched the group later and went for coffee, but I admit it I’m shallow, I wanted to know where to get those velour pants.

There I was, just a couple of years after the Cultural Revolution in the middle of a pig farm with a group of other Canadian Chinese on a 3 week tour in China. For the most part the adults were immigrants themselves and not completely shell-shocked at the conditions. Their children on the other hand were Canadian-born teenagers constantly whining about the lack of MacDonald’s, pizza and the unbearable nastiness of squat toilets. It turned out our hotel reservations were bumped by an incoming foreign experts group and being “compatriots”, they thought the pig pen inn would be acceptable to us. It didn’t take long for the screaming to begin. Let me shorten the story by saying I was the leader of the tour. I was seventeen. I hid on the bus.

Today that farmer is probably sporting thousand dollar titanium implants in his mouth, driving a Porsche SUV and visiting his grandchildren in Monterey Park, California, thanks to the toy, shoe or plastics factory he traded up to. There are more than 1 million millionaires worth more than 10 million yuan, 60,000 multimillionaires worth more than 100 million yuan and over 200 USD billionaires in China. Foreign citizenship for this wealthy class is not however a must-have item in their portfolio.

It’s interesting that historically, while the laborer and middle class have sought out immigration as a means to improve their lot, the wealthy class of Chinese have decided to stay home. I don’t blame them. In the West, everyone is equal. Rich or poor, you wait like everybody else for the cable installer to arrive at your home anytime within a 4 hour window. Hiring household help is so expensive that learning “how to Swiffer”, a DIY mopping system, is one of the top searches on Chinese language websites. Drivers are unheard of unless you’re referring to the Callaway’s in your golf bag.

Yet, potential emigrants cite their children’s education, air quality, food safety and financial security as reasons to emigrate. It’s ironic that for the less wealthy, assimilating into a new culture may be easier. In China, the rich, the famous and the powerful are accommodated daily through deferential shows of “face”. In the West, all Chinese are treated the same – like an immigrant. There’s no favoritism, no guanxi, no shortcuts to the front of the line. And then there are the kids.

Not only can they expect the teenage rebellion against their heritage, where Chinese is understood but not spoken and chopsticks are delegated to the dustbin, but interracial marriage is at an all-time high. In the West, Asian females have a 1 in 3 chance of marrying a non-Asian, although the flip side shows that Asian/White interracial newlyweds had a higher combined annual income than any other pairing including Asian/Asian, at over USD 70,000 per year.

For the uber-wealthy, the trade-off for a healthier environment and independence may not be enough. World-wide tax rates up to half of their income, a loss of status, and the dilution of their cultural heritage may be too dear a price to pay. Since the ‘90s, China has presented opportunities for success beyond what other nations can offer.

When I first stepped off that bus, I was more than grateful to my grandfather for immigrating to Canada a century ago, but when I look at the sophistication and progress in Beijing, Shanghai and Guangzhou today, I wonder where would I be if only he stayed a little longer?

In China, millions of unmarried men and women are regulated to the state of apartment limbo, unable to tie the knot until the property deed lies next to the marriage certificate. Chongqing Morning Post reported that in a current survey of over 50,000 women, almost 70 percent regard having an apartment as a prerequisite for men to ask for marriage. It also showed that 80 percent of single women believe only men who earn more than RMB 4,000 (US$650) monthly should be in a relationship at all. Outsiders may see this as a mercenary part on the women who make it a condition of marriage but why marry a pauper when you can marry a prince is the logic of reason. The argument that monetary importance over romantic love is a cultural stance and applies specifically in China loses ground as Forbes Woman in the US reveals that 75% of women there wouldn’t consider marrying an unemployed man. So is chemistry a more important factor in choosing a mate or the size of his wallet?

For women especially, relying on chemistry often proves to be a poor predictor of long-term relationship success over tangible evidence like earning potential and family ties. Statistics show that fewer arranged marriages end in divorce in compared with matches made on emotion, which may be a reason why arranging introductions through parents and matchmakers are on the upswing. With expectations of the single and their family openly laid out, it’s easier to find like-minded candidates. However, with the advent of the one child family, are adult singles and their parents expecting too much?

Divorce rates in the US are more than three times that of China, although the rate for couples in their 20’s -30’s is doubling annually. Is this a result of weighting financial resources over common interests and values too heavily? Couples in successful and long-term marriages often comment that trust, shared principals, values and beliefs are the foundation for a relationship that over time bridges open and transparent communication.

Unfortunately the skyrocketing price of housing is pricing many males out of the marriage market. And with the year-on-year increase of female college graduates and their higher standards, the competition for “eligible” men grows even fiercer. It’s ironic then in a country where marriageable males outnumber females; women are having more and more difficulties finding the One. In the West, free-swinging single men are referred as bachelors while single women (presumably living with a herd of cats) are tagged as spinsters. In China, there’s an equally inauspicious moniker for unmarried women over 28, they’re called “leftovers”.

Maybe it’s time that we realize that it’s neither love (that’s defined by chemistry and feelings) nor money that will ensure a happily ever after but our potential to act lovingly and willingness to support each other to each achieve financial and emotional success.

It’s been 25 years since I married the joker with the free airfare proposal only like most things in marriage there was a hitch; he forgot to tell me it was “Stand-By”.

Yes, Linsanity even touches the lives of we who wouldn’t know the difference between an alley-oop and an air ball, and can only surmise that a “Big Man” refers to – er… his height. Here is a guy every Chinese mother dreams of “He’s a Harvard grad!” and every Chinese father secretly wishes for “My boy can dunk – and he’s a future franchise!”

But along with the media hoopla, New Yorkers Gone Wild, inspiration for underdogs everywhere and the blooming of Asian pride, there is an ugly but insistent voice rising out of the rafters. The first shots came in the form of a poster of Lin popping out of a fortune cookie, then there was the slight on his manhood by a journalist for Fox Sports, followed by a blast from boxer Floyd Mayweather Jr. tweeting that “Jeremy Lin is a good player but all the hype is because he’s Asian. Black players do what he does every night and don’t get the same praise.” Later, ESPN fired an editor and suspended an anchor for using a derogatory Asian term for Lin in their headlines. Even Ben & Jerry’s, the high-end hippie ice cream purveyors had to back down and apologize for bringing out its “Taste the Lin-sanity” frozen yoghurt. Mixed with bits of fortune cookies and lychee honey, it quickly piled up complaints for bad taste both literally and figuratively. Overly sensitive you say? Imagine the uproar if a dark chocolate Kobe Dunk was added to the 31 flavors.

Asians, Chinese in particular have had a long and until the 1960’s ignominious relationship with the US. The first mass migration from China in 1848 was the California Gold Rush bringing thousands of men seeking their fortune. 20 years later the Transcontinental Railway saw tens of thousands more willing to take on the most perilous and backbreaking jobs for lower pay than other immigrants. With anti-Chinese fervor rising in the western states, the US Congress passed the Chinese Exclusion Act in 1882, stopping the flow of immigrants from China to a trickle until it was fully repealed in 1965. It’s from this foundation that the stereotypes, clichés, covert and overt racism spring.

Asians though, aren’t supposed to be offended when someone comes up and pretends to speak chop-suey Chinglish; the sing-song, ching-chong babble that we “slant eyes” converse in. We’re constantly blamed for turning out SAT hounds gobbling up all the seats in the Ivy Leagues or being the mother-of-all bad drivers – well, the last one is actually true.

But, we’re expected to take it in stride; after all it’s only a joke. Saturday Night Live took their own stab with a skit exposing the two-faced humor in the barrage of Linsanity puns, but as I watched the jokes became less and less funny as the studio audience laughed even harder.

Pete Hoekstra who is now seeking a US senate seat, ran a campaign ad during the Superbowl 2012. In it was a Chinese actress portraying a rural peasant in China, only too happy to be taking American jobs. She was made to speak in broken English to “authenticate” her character. When challenged on the racist overtones, Pete Hoekstra while never addressing the charges, condescendingly replied that her speaking English was “quite an achievement”.

Asian culture is to respect others and avoid confrontation but just because our deadliest fighters can’t reach the overhead straps in subway cars doesn’t mean we’re happy to be kicked around. In Pete’s case, Kristina Wong has responded with a wicked parody on YouTube and I’m doing my part by donating to Debbie Stabenow’s campaign, Hoekstra’s opposition for Senate. God bless America and China too!

16 out of 23. That’s how many wedding anniversaries my husband remembered. Oh sure he made it up on our 10^th anniversary when he gave me a pair of diamond stud earrings big enough for a butterfly to choke on, but meh – my record on this matter is actually worse.

For the forgetful, a good strategy is to stick to giving the traditional symbolic gifts. On our fifth anniversary – wood, I fished out a pencil from the kitchen drawer. Sixth – candy, a loose stick of gum. Seventh, I remembered. Eighth – pottery, an ashtray I made at pottery class. Ninth – pottery again, the same ashtray only rewrapped. He stopped me at nine which was too bad as I was saving up for our eleventh – steel, he didn’t really need that Ferrari anyways.

But the one occasion my husband been 23 for 23 is Valentine’s Day. Maybe it’s because the shops are awash in pink hearts and fluttering cupids the weeks before or maybe it’s because the sofa just doesn’t provide  the best night’s sleep, whatever, I know there’ll be flowers and a big box of non-discounted chocolates waiting for me on that day.

February 14^th puts smiles on millions of people’s faces, and that’s just the merchants because Valentine’s Day is the unenviable obstacle course of romance men engage in annually. Ask any guy what his favorite holiday is and few will choose the day in which he’s expected to shell out half a day’s pay for a dozen roses and an overpriced set dinner accompanied by a glass of cheap champagne.

Not surprisingly, the origins of Valentine’s Day has nothing to do with romance or unrequited love or even a day to remember to put the toilet seat down. The unsubstantiated reports include painful martyrdom and reversed crucifixion. It was Geoffrey Chaucer, an English poet in the 14^th century who was first credited with associating romance with Valentine’s Day. Hand written valentines followed later in the 18^th century and good old American enterprise ramped the holiday up beginning in the 20th century when, flowers, chocolates and jewelry joined the mix.  But what has stayed constant through the ages is that while valentines are traded between lovers, family and friends, the main recipient of the day is the lady.

For women, Valentine’s Day is our day of acknowledgement, of appreciation, of gratitude. Unlike anniversaries which are sometimes forgotten or birthdays which lose their celebratory nature as our bits and pieces surrender to gravity; Valentine’s Day to a woman says “You are desirable”. Thus, men walk a tight-rope for what is given is taken as a gauge of their love. Too little and it’s the silent treatment. Too much and the expectations get higher and higher year after year.

So how to choose the right gift? The one that says “I love you” without your needing to eat instant ramen noodles for the next month? Breakfast in bed is nice but a diamond is better. A backrub is comfortable but a diamond is better. Doing all the household chores for a day is good but a diamond is better. Let’s face it, this day will not pass without you pulling out your wallet and remember, a diamond is better. So give your woman her due, of all the days of the year, this is the one when she wants to hear from you that’s she’s beautiful and believe it.

And if you should end up empty-handed and sheepishly excuse yourself with the phrase” But what could I get for the woman who has everything?” Expect her answer to be “I’ll give you a list”.

Grade school homework is every parent’s nightmare. It’s second only to a parent’s worst nightmare which is after paying for 3 years of college, room and board your kid decides to switch majors, start again and proceeds to empty out your retirement fund.

Last year students from a host of countries were given a standardized international test and to everyone’s surprise Shanghai came out on top. Beating out Singapore, South Korea and Germany, it was an even wider margin between China and the United States. Close on the heels of the report was the brouhaha over Tiger Mom Amy Chua’s article “Why Chinese Mothers are Superior” and suddenly Chinese parents were painted as a nation of Captain Bligh’s; hard-hearted taskmasters who rewarded their little charges with a bit of dry tack if they brought home straight A’s and a lashing with the cat o’nine tails if they didn’t.

Not content with Tiger Mom’s harsh example, now comes along Wolf Dad Xiao Baiyou who claims that beating your child with a feather duster is a sure-fire incentive to get them into Peking University. Interestingly enough, as wolves aren’t known for their dusting skills, a more fitting moniker for him would likely be Chicken Dad.

For Americans outraged at the authoritarian-type discipline of Chinese parents, they conveniently overlook the long, exhausting hours Chinese parents put in 7 days a week to ensure their children achieve the best grades. Oh sure, a typical American parent may be heavy on the school functions too, but a couple of hours cheering on your kid at a basketball game is a lot easier than slogging through arcane bits of algebra.

Chinese parents demand homework; it’s a necessary evil like twice yearly dental check-ups or DIY prostrate exams. The advent of the one child family results in the laser-like focus of parents and grandparents thus, there is no such thing here as an “Army of One”, rather it’s Team Xiu-Xiu, Team Dong Dong or Team Peach – which in China is not gender-specific. But what Americans seem unaware of is that Chinese parents dislike homework as much as anyone else; in the end, it’s all a matter of self-interest.

China currently has over 143 million elderly citizens, that’s equal to the entire population of Russia or France and the United Kingdom combined. It’s expected to hit 437 million by 2051 when 3 out of 10 people will be over 60. Government social care for the elderly is lagging far behind developed countries. Over 65% of seniors don’t receive welfare, pensions or adequate medical care. The solution to this dismal future? China is advocating that “senior citizens live at home and be taken care of in the community”.

Good grades equals good schools which lead to good jobs and financial security for aging parents when they finally move in with their adult children. Rigorous schoolwork and academic discipline then isn’t a matter of Confucian policy but self-preservation. Given the state of America’s daunting deficit and depleting Social Security reserves will American parents soon ditch the school football parties for study sessions with their kids on syntax, thesis writing and exposition?

For me, I don’t want my twilight years spent in a creaking mother-in-law apartment over my child’s garage, heck no – I want my own satellite TV equipped, hardwood teak floor, 2 bedroom cabana beside their landscaped infinity pool. Looks like another four hours of homework tonight? Bring it on!

The recent events involving the Pennsylvania State football coach Joe Paterno resonates even more acutely over here. The past weeks of national hand-wringing over the inaction of 18 by-standers to save the life of a two year old girl has the country wondering if society’s modern self-centered chase for prosperity has obliterated the past traditions of community and public decency.

Joe Paterno is a living icon. In a country where millions of lives are scheduled around college sports and football being the holy grail of them all, he holds the record as the coach for the most games won. An investigation regarding the sexual abuse of a child by Paterno’s former defensive coordinator Jerry Sandusky has now led to the firing of the legendary coach and criminal charges against Sandusky, the athletic director and school vice president for aiding in the cover-up. In addition, earlier abuse witnessed by a janitor went unreported because he feared for his job.

Paterno has built his legacy not only on skilled coaching and strategy but was known for his integrity. So much so he created a campaign called “The Grand Experiment” to prove that football excellence and academic integrity could co-exist. Although Paterno complied with the school policy of reporting the allegations of abuse to the athletic director in 2002, he did not go further, either reporting to the police or following up. Now that further allegations have recently surfaced, the question in everyone’s mind is why did he not speak out?

Why did 18 by-standers not help an injured toddler? Why did powerful men allow the possibility of a sexual predator to continue to abuse young children in their own midst?

As humans, one of our greatest driving forces is self-preservation. We strive for a better life and steer clear of obstacles that could hurt us. But also as humans, we have an innate desire to live with one another. Whether it’s as a family, friend, couple or community; no man is an island or wants to be stuck on one alone. We have a moral compass that instinctively signals us to take care of each other, even strangers.

It’s when we see a need but push down that natural compulsion to help that the community stands up and roars it’s head, justifiably.

The Golden Rule to treat others as we’d like to be treated is an underpinning, a safety net for us as a society to prosper. But by putting ourselves first and leaving behind the vulnerable, we put our survival as a society at risk.

All of us will be challenged at some point, when we must weigh personal safety for the greater good. And therein lies the dangers of selfishness for as Edmund Burke said, “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing”. Oh, and the parking attendant? He gave me the first hour for free.
  
 

In response to this, the China National Association for Ethnical Studies just announced a program to teach filial piety to 1 million children between the ages of 4 and 6 years. This has come under pointed criticism. First of all, parents better hope their child will be part of that million, if not, lock unto this mantra – “I must spend all my money before my child does”. Secondly, teaching filial piety is not like a no littering campaign. While teaching small children to bow to their parents may be a fun game to them, chances of having your teenager wash your feet no less speak a comprehensible sentence to you are a hundred times harder than winning the national lottery.

I obtained my first real job by that tried and true method; nepotism. It was a stressful environment with suppliers coming up short, partners changing contractual terms and clients demanding what was hastily promised to them. Then there was my boss – my mother. The mother-daughter relationship is like the act of giving birth; only relived every day. There’s the pain, the screaming, the need to separate, the ecstasy of love, more pain and much more screaming. Throw in a salary dispute, a hardship posting and parental disapproval of my boyfriend and it was no wonder that I contemplated the early demise of my mother. Of course, filial piety and the fact that with her gone, there would be no one to sign my paycheck dissipated my tantrum into less rebellious moves like clocking in after 10 am and not recycling used paper.

It wasn’t until the birth of my first child that I really understood and appreciated all the things that my parents had done for me. Some were great sacrifices, some were not but most of their lives were steered in one way or another by the care and upbringing of my sister and myself.  Sure they made mistakes; did too much or too little at one time or another but I am who I am in many ways because of who they are and who their parents were. Blood may be thicker than water but our characteristics, values and principals are even more viscous, because like DNA, that’s what replicates from generation to generation.

The 24 Filial Exemplars (二十四孝 èrshísì xiào) is a classic text of Confucian filial piety with stories like He Fed His Parents Doe’s Milk (Lù Rŭ Fèng Qīn 鹿乳奉親), He Strangled A Tiger To Save His Father (È Hŭ Jiù Qīn 搤虎救父), and of course what we all hope from our children someday; He Washed His Mother’s Bedpan (Dí Qīn Niào Qì 滌親溺器).  But let’s be realistic and not expect this from a teenage son or daughter who can find a myriad of excuses for not taking out the garbage. No, the children who best show filial piety to their parents are usually grandparents themselves.

In the end can filial piety be taught? Of course. You can teach a kid to play the piano but that doesn’t mean he’ll like it or want to play all his life. Filial piety in its purest form comes down to sacrificing oneself for another. It’s borne out of love, loyalty and respect, not guilt or fear. The idea can be taught in the classroom but it’s only in the home where it’s nurtured and grown. As for my own parents, I always assure them that filial piety is paramount to me, and if they should ever need a place they’ve got it, after all, there’s always room in the garage.