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In Reply to: Re: Why is it so obvious these are TF? posted by Cult radar on November 30, 2007 at 01:33:11:
It is eerily familiar, and something doesn't sit right. There's always the chance I'm being paranoid reading into everything, but yes I suspect it's TF too. It takes one to know one. There are quite a few things that just give it away:
The parents were detached, TF style.
"Your uncle in Taiwan" is one.
The decor is another--these are people living out of a suitcase.
The emphasis on making her appear to excel.
The child as a product/sample/testimony of something else other than her self.
There is something about the generic American accent so prevalent in TF.
The way they talk to a 2-year old.
Most parents will let a kid be a kid, but the small minority who won't but are into breeding super kids tend to have other things to go along with the set. But the rest of that set is missing.
The ambitious super-breeder types are usually rich or academic themselves, and use certain stuffy things in their language; when they are proud, they are proud of themselves in a different way--their general message is, "look at our superior stock."
These people on the other hand, were living spartanly, used a rote-learning method, used a praise-and-reward system to push their child, and were somewhat bowling over her emotions--they were going to get her to give them their 10 minutes to show off on camera no matter what, but was all veiled like, "see how she wants to do it herself?"
Their message, in contrast to super-breeder types was, "look at our superior training." They didn't use words which actually raised her self-esteem like "oh you are such a clever girl" or "you genius!" or "you're amazing!" or "you're so good!" etc (less they create pride, god forbid), but rather words which praised her obedience and performance as she followed their program ("Yay Lilly!" "Good job!"). It was all about loving the golden eggs and not the goose.
They talked to each other like she wasn't there, like she was objectified: "have I asked her to show me Greece yet?" instead of "Did we do Greece yet?" -- the kid was a project, not a member of their family they loved unconditionally. Berg did that all the time, talked to the children, got them to behave and perform, and then talked about them like they weren't there, like they were a separate entity (more "him," "her" and "them"; less "we," "our little girl," "my daughter," "our lovely little girl").
The parents were actually cold. Whenever the child celebrated and clapped for herself, they weren't part of it, but just kept steering her, prompting and training her like a dog. Her emotional well-being was clearly not at the center of their lives at all, more like something they had a routine of controling, keeping in check.
Just my smart-ass observations.
