The Iceberg Model: What You're Actually Seeing
When we work with Hong Kong families, we teach them something called the Iceberg Model. It's a framework that's helped thousands of Hong Kong parents understand their children better.
What you see above the water: The tantrum. The screaming. The crying. The throwing themselves on the ground. The refusal. The behavior that makes Hong Kong parents feel like they're failing.
What's beneath the water: The actual feeling driving the behavior. Frustration. Powerlessness. Fear. Overwhelm. Confusion. Unmet need.
Most Hong Kong parents focus entirely on what's above the water. We try to stop the tantrum. We punish. We try to make it go away. There's cultural pressure to do so—we're taught that good children don't have meltdowns.
But here's the thing: the tantrum is just the messenger. If you only shoot the messenger, the message comes back, usually stronger.
What you have to do is understand what's beneath the water. What is your child actually feeling or needing?
The supermarket example: your child wants candy and you said no. What's beneath the water? It's not that they're entitled or spoiled. It's usually one of these:
Powerlessness. They don't have control over anything in their life. You decide what they eat, when they sleep, where they go, what school they attend. This is one moment where they wanted to decide something, and you said no. That triggers rage. In Hong Kong's structured, controlled parenting environment, this can be especially acute.
Frustration with their own brain. They can't understand why you said no. They can't problem-solve their way around it. That's infuriating.
A need they can't articulate. Maybe they're exhausted and need sugar. Maybe they felt disconnected from you and candy felt like connection. Maybe they're overstimulated or stressed from school pressure.
None of that looks like the tantrum from the outside. But it's all real.
And here's the part about being smart: children who recognize "I have a problem I can't solve" and express it are showing emotional awareness. They're communicating. They're not shutting down or becoming the "good, quiet child" that Hong Kong culture often values—which can mask serious emotional struggles.
The tantrum is crude communication, yes. But it's still communication.
What you see above the water: The tantrum. The screaming. The crying. The throwing themselves on the ground. The refusal. The behavior that makes Hong Kong parents feel like they're failing.
What's beneath the water: The actual feeling driving the behavior. Frustration. Powerlessness. Fear. Overwhelm. Confusion. Unmet need.
Most Hong Kong parents focus entirely on what's above the water. We try to stop the tantrum. We punish. We try to make it go away. There's cultural pressure to do so—we're taught that good children don't have meltdowns.
But here's the thing: the tantrum is just the messenger. If you only shoot the messenger, the message comes back, usually stronger.
What you have to do is understand what's beneath the water. What is your child actually feeling or needing?
The supermarket example: your child wants candy and you said no. What's beneath the water? It's not that they're entitled or spoiled. It's usually one of these:
Powerlessness. They don't have control over anything in their life. You decide what they eat, when they sleep, where they go, what school they attend. This is one moment where they wanted to decide something, and you said no. That triggers rage. In Hong Kong's structured, controlled parenting environment, this can be especially acute.
Frustration with their own brain. They can't understand why you said no. They can't problem-solve their way around it. That's infuriating.
A need they can't articulate. Maybe they're exhausted and need sugar. Maybe they felt disconnected from you and candy felt like connection. Maybe they're overstimulated or stressed from school pressure.
None of that looks like the tantrum from the outside. But it's all real.
And here's the part about being smart: children who recognize "I have a problem I can't solve" and express it are showing emotional awareness. They're communicating. They're not shutting down or becoming the "good, quiet child" that Hong Kong culture often values—which can mask serious emotional struggles.
The tantrum is crude communication, yes. But it's still communication.
