Michael Rothman

What was your kid personality?

Probably not too dissimilar from my adult personality. Some friends surprised me with a song at my 30th birthday and connected my personality to that of a wolf, which I’ve now adopted as a spirit animal. “Sometimes he’s a lone wolf, other times he likes to lead a pack.” I oscillate between introversion and extroversion, but I definitely draw energy from other people.

Was it an original tune?

Original tune. They were quite musical.

Were Jewish traditions a part of your life when you were growing up?

We took the High Holy Days seriously. We took Passover seriously. Purim probably merited a trip to synagogue. I went to Hebrew School until I didn’t have to anymore. I was a troublemaker in Hebrew School, throwing pencils at the ceiling and causing a ruckus. It didn’t feel like teaching as much as it felt like indoctrination. My guard was always up, and I remember being sent to the principal’s office in Hebrew School for denying that the Red Sea parted. I think my father implanted the idea that there was some kind of geological basis for the idea of the seas parting and, over time, this geological phenomenon took on myth and became this big story, so I insisted that there was some kind of scientific basis. I regret that I can pronounce Hebrew, but I can’t read it. I think that that’s a real missed opportunity. It seems like most Hebrew schools just focus on learning Hebrew so you can recite Torah, and then on to the next. I think an entire generation of kids would be much more connected to Israel and Jewish life and culture if they actually spoke the language.

Where did you end up at college? What were the biggest surprises?

I went to Brown. I finally had some perspective outside of suburban New Jersey. I wore tight shirts and had man jewelry. I was bemuscled and bejeweled and I showed up at a very progressive, liberal school as this big meatstick from New Jersey who wasn’t there on an athletic scholarship. It’s funny when you look back on the things that you wore. You realize it’s a costume. I think even among the group of friends that I made, I was kind of this oddity. Like, “Who is this meathead who likes theater and creative writing?”

What did you study? Did you know what you wanted to do?

Initially, I wanted to go into screenwriting. The best internship I had was working for Conan as his scriptwriting intern, but it wasn’t just like you become an intern and then a writer on the show – you have to put in 10 years of hard time of stand-up. My friend and I had this idea for a magazine about celebrations. Not who’s out with whom wearing what, but human interest stories that had a through line of celebration. The front of the book would be bar, restaurant, and event reviews. This was circa 2002, so the idea of starting a print magazine didn’t seem like an incredibly far fetched, ill-advised idea. We got a grant from the school to pursue that and did it until we ran out of money, then I got a job at a publishing company and my friend went and helped start the magazine called GOOD, which is still around.

You didn’t become a screenwriter. Is that still an unfulfilled dream?

I like the business of content. I like the science around the distribution of content and the operations of building a content organization and monetizing content. To the extent that I needed to scratch a creative itch, I became involved with The Moth and will tell stories with them.

When was the first time you told a story live?

Three years ago, I put together a series of events called Roth Moths. After I left Thrillist, I went across the street to The Moth office and I said, “Hey, I’ve been a fan for 13 years and I’m gonna help. You’ve got all this amazing equity among the creative communities in New York, but you probably can use some help with sponsorship and figuring out ways to make money within this community.” And they’re like, “Uh, OK!” I introduced them to people in the media and technology community through a series of events and used those events as the impetus to stand and tell a story. One of the first events was about a chip off the old block, stories about your old man. I told a story about my dad as a lapsed wolf biologist. It was a great moment, because he was in the audience, but he didn’t know I was telling this story about him. Someone spontaneously let out a wolf howl, and everybody joined in. It was at the Soho Synagogue, so it was a very beautiful, spiritual moment.

How does being Jewish play into your life now, if at all?

It’s more cultural. It represents an unbroken tradition and there is a beauty in maintaining certain traditions or, in my case, figuring out how to adapt traditions to meet my needs and to meet contemporary times. A couple weeks ago, I finally took a friend up on his offer to spend Shabbat at his house. It was wonderful and we had a terrific conversation for 4 hours among a bunch of different people and it was a really relaxing way to spend the end of the week. There’s a reason why this is a ritual that’s been passed on for millenia. So, I think it means identifying the things from the past that work for me today.

Are there parts of Judaism or Jewish practice that really don’t resonate with you?

Science, reason… We’re here in South Williamsburg in a very Hassidican neighborhood – this is the Dominican block, and then up a block we have the Hassids – and kudos to them for maintaining such a powerful culture with all this change throughout the city, but I don’t like the segregation of the sexes or the subjugation of women. Granted, when accused of that, they talk about how Jewish religion and culture places women on a pedestal, but, in some of these communities, it’s less obvious how that actually happens.

Do you have a favorite Jewish holiday?

I like the solemnity of Yom Kippur. I like the idea of taking stock. That and Passover – just getting the richness of the meal and the ritual around the meal.

Favorite Jewish food? least favorite?
Bagels and lox. There’s this Italian comedian, Sebastian Maniscalco, whose whole shtick is being over the top Italian American and he talks about going to a seder for the first time and is like, “As an Italian, you expect there to be bread within 3 seconds. That’s not the case.” He goes on and on and there’s one line where he says, “Jews should stick with breakfast. Beyond breakfast, it all goes to Hell.”

When do you feel like the best version of yourself?

Probably after a long run and a shower and a really great breakfast. Then a matcha green tea. There’s a 3-hour period where it’s like, “Watch out world.”

What’s something that makes you feel insecure?

Unpredictability or any kind of entropy at work. You have to plan for things, but, often, things don’t go the way that you planned and you didn’t plan for the contingency. I’ve gotten better at managing panic or putting space between action and reaction. I think that’s probably the most healthy mark of maturity. It’s not just reacting, it’s where you can process something and then make an executive decision on how to act.

What or who is your biggest inspiration?

My dad has set a really effective moral compass. I’ve come to recognize that that’s one of the most important things that a parent could pass onto a kid. If all else is forgotten, if learning how to whittle or all these other things that a dad might teach a kid fade into oblivion, just passing on that sense of purpose and right and wrong.

What’s a cause that you care about?

I mentioned The Moth, but probably just as, if not more important, is the welfare of inner city boys and men. I’ve been a Big Brother for 15 years. Going back to the moral compass thing, my dad was a Big Brother when he went to college. The circumstance with one of my little brothers in New York actually led me to do the cross country bike trip. He was incarcerated and his little brother was being threatened with foster care, so we wanted to raise money to put him in a private boarding school. As I got older, I felt like I was able to serve as a mentor to older boys and men, so that’s how I got involved in Career Gear, which is like a Dress For Success for guys coming from prison, poverty, substance abuse.

Photos by Tim Gibson.