CHAPTER 1Tiger Dad, Tiger Daughter
SLIVERS OF WOOD BORE INTO MY SKIN, MY BACK ACHED, AND my shins throbbed with pain. I had been forced to kneel on a washer board in front of my father for more than an hour while he drilled me on the multiplication tables, and the wooden ridges were digging so deeply into my legs that I could barely think.
“Eight times six!” he barked.
“Uh . . .”
I must have taken a beat too long to answer, so he slapped me hard across the face.
“EIGHT TIMES SIX!” he repeated.
“Forty?” I ventured.
“Stupid, useless girl!” he yelled, and slapped me again, even harder this time.
“Baba, I know it! Forty-eight!”
On and on it went, until well past dusk. I was beginning to bleed, but there would be no respite until I completed the entire ...
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