Born and Raised in Taiwan, I Actually Appreciate How Americans Judge Parents

On the day Baby J turned six weeks old, Dr. J went on a business trip to Asia for a week. A few days later, one evening while I was breastfeeding Baby J, Little J demanded that I pick him up and carry him to the toilet.

"Mama, I need to pee, now!" he cried.

I couldn't figure out how to move a 4-year-old without interrupting the feeding. Besides, he was perfectly potty trained.

So I told him, "Come on, buddy, you know how to do it by yourself. I can't pick you up right now. I'm feeding Didi."

"No, no! I want you to take me!"

"I can walk you down the hallway."

"No, no, no! I want you to pick me up!"

I didn't know what to do. I was severely sleep-deprived. Dr. J wasn't home to help. Little J throwing a tantrum while I was trying to nurse Baby J to sleep really added insult to injury.

Speaking of insult to injury--Little J peed his pants and had a full meltdown.

"Buddy, buddy, that's okay!" I tried to calm him. "Accidents happen/ Now take your pants off and wrap yourself in this towel. Then come sit with me. We'll clean you up once Didi is down eating."

But he was crying like his head was being cut off. He cried too hard to hear me.

Finally, Baby J fell asleep. I put him in his crib. Then I picked up the crying child and cleaned him up. He must have been crying really loudly, because while we were in the shower, I heard the doorbell.

A police officer stood at my door and asked if everything was alright in the house.

"Yes, yes," I told him. "My child had a meltdown. But we're okay now."

He asked me a couple of questions to make sure I was alright. Then he wished me a good night and left.

One of my neighbors had called 911 and reported the crying. Realizing that, I actually felt peace--knowing someone cares about what's happening in my house.

I was born and raised in Taiwan. At about Little J's age, I was beaten by my parents almost every day. There had always been crying--often blood. But no one ever showed up at our door to ask if everything was okay.

Our neighbors looked at me pitifully when I walked home from school. They they turned around and whispered to each other. I could tell they knew something was happening in our house. Yet no one ever asked.

Luckily, I managed to escape the horror. I fled to America, leaving behind an irritable father, a depressed mother, and an anxious sister. I finished journalism school in the States and became a journalist.

I've been covering parenting, education, and family life style for six years now. Currently serving as the US correspondent for a Taiwanese parenting magazine, I frequently write about the differences between American and Taiwanese parenting.

Last year, a Taiwanese couple posted prank videos featuring their kids on Facebook. In the video, the parents scared their 5-year-old and 3-year-old with a vacuum until the children cried. After the 5-year-old tried to protect his younger brother, the dad spanked him with a clothes hanger. The videos outraged viewers, but the parents received no consequences.

At around the same time, the controversial American YouTuber "DaddyOFive" were sentenced to probation for similar videos involving their children. I wrote about the case for the magazine I work for. A Taiwanese pediatrician commented, "Many young lives could be saved if only we judged parents the way Americans do."

I could have escaped form the domestic violence much earlier if my parents had been judged. My sister might no have developed an anxiety disorder if our parents had been judged.

In 2016, sixteen Taiwanese children under the age of six died in injuries resulted by car accidents that could be prevented by the correct use of car seats, according to the Jing-chuan Child Safety Foundation. There is a car seat law, but no one says anything if parents ignore it. THose sixteen children didn't have to die--if only their parents had been judged.

Three years ago in Taiwan, I saw a father slap his toddler in a restaurant. I seemed to be the only one who was shocked. Others shushed me and said, "it's none of your business to judge someone else's parenting." I was silenced. To this day, I still feel bad for not saying anything.

That night when the police showed up at my door and questioned my parenting, I knew I was being judged. But being judged didn't make me feel like a terrible mother--as long as I knew I had done nothing wrong. I didn't feel attacked or ashamed. I felt safe, knowing that we, as parents and as a society, are watching out for one another. And in doing so, we protect all our children.

**This is a cross post from World Moms Network.