The Humanist

I asked Mr. Rotundo why he became a teacher. He unveiled the gateway to 2009.

“Volunteering, part-time work, but no full-time work for a couple of years.”

It was the 2009 recession. People were gripped by the distress of unemployment. College students were especially hampered in finding jobs — Mr. Rotundo was one of them.

As a history major who graduated from Vassar College, he initially wanted to earn a Ph.D. in history, yet he pondered upon the feeling of needing more life experience,

“Maybe I was happier in a classroom with people than I would be in a library or archive.” he amusedly remarked.

The teaching industry in the U.S. refused to hire new people during the period and demanded at least two years of experience from all applicants. The recession put his original plan to a halt but lit up a new path for him to proceed on.

“During that time…it got me to rethink things and made me open to more possibilities”

A year later, the idea of teaching abroad intrigued him. An unfamiliar place, a foreign language, and a new land to travel to appeared to have more vibrant dynamics than living in the stagnant States.

He applied for teaching jobs across the world. YK Pao School was the first school that reached out for a teaching assistant.

“Shanghai sounded really exciting and China sounded really exciting,” he said with a spark of joy.

“I could have just easily wound up somewhere really different…if YK Pao hadn't worked out, I could have been learning Arabic in the Middle East .”

Mr. Rotundo’s pilgrimage in Shikoku.

He spoke to me with unhurried ease mixed with a

daring spirit and bits of playfulness. His eyes were shimmering with hope and delight — a gleam of unwavering belief in the possibilities that lay ahead.

I asked him about his mindset stepping into the oriental world. He mentioned his friend, who had been living in ChangZhou for a year and “had a really meaningful and a much more challenging cultural merging experience.”

“To me, it seems like all the things that were different about China were an adventure and a chance to learn.”

Barely able to think of anything besides “Nihao”, He accepted the job in February 2011.

“I might have been able to think of Nihao, but that was about it. I didn’t know Xiexie, I didn’t know numbers, I didn’t know anything else.” He laughed so honestly as he leaned forward to tell the story.

His parents found one of their colleagues to tutor him in Chinese throughout the spring, while he taught his tutor English in return. He joked that his tutor “wound up helping him a lot more”, as if he cannot bear not to reveal it.

“She actually took me through the first year of high school in Chinese in about four months, so I came here with a basic grounding in Chinese.” I was once again fascinated by his aspiration to learn a new language.

I continued to ask about how he was raised.

Growing up in a small town near Boston, Mr. Rotundo’s parents were both historians who acted as the guiding lights that shaped his interests. In fact, they never pushed history as a major, and his mother encouraged his interest in biology over history for “better jobs”.

“My parents really love reading and they would take turns reading to me and my sister each night. One night will be my dad reading to…and another night…”.

He could not wait to mimic the exact procedures of how this would be carried out.

Mr. Rotundo with his Family

“I remember there was a video library in their history department. As I was getting older, sometimes my mother would bring me back videos to watch, like documentaries and historical fiction…My parents talked about history a lot, they took us to historical sites — Boston area, there’s a lot to see around…even they didn’t mean to, they wound up encouraging my interests in history, and literature too!”

Boston was on my radar too and I immediately commented on the Museum of Fine Arts.

“You mentioned the MFA, I remember my mother designing a scavenger hunt for me and my sister in the MFA when we were little kids, like ‘find these things in the museum’. It was a Christmas scavenger hunt, so when we finished, there were toys for us.”

I hung onto every word he said, admiring and suspended in a state of captivation.

“It’s umm…history teachers as parents!” We burst into laughter again.

Driven by his parents and his innate empathy toward human connection, Mr. Rotundo delved into the realms of history, literature, drama, and the vast tapestry of humanity’s collective wisdom.

“It’s really important to understand other people’s perspectives.”

He revealed that one of the realities of humanities is that there isn’t just one way of living or one way of seeing things; instead, many factors can lead us to different conclusions.

“If we don’t have the capacity to step in the side of someone else’s perspective, we actually can’t get anything done. It can lead to war, and conflicts but it’s also essential to a happy life because a happy life is a connected life.”

Looking through the lens of a humanist, he took on himself the mission to engage with different cultures and societies in the 21st century.

His visit to a tea farm in Fuyang, Zhejiang, 2018

“As a white American man, I should not just be learning about other white people, especially other white men.”

He explained this as the reason for teaching American depth study in IGCSE history, a period that includes aspects of intolerance and women's history.

“As a male, you have more of a responsibility to learn about female and other gender perspectives.”

“Especially if you are part of a privileged group, but not only if you are part of a privileged group, everybody has a responsibility in the 21st century to try and learn about other people, or at the very least, to acknowledge our own ignorance.”

I listened to him attentively, unaware of my soul being touched by the profoundness of his humility.

As always, It was a “Mr. Rotundo enlightening moment”.

From ancient wars to modern hegemony, I inquired about his view on conflicts arising from clashes between perspectives, often fueled by egocentrism.

“Our sense of self should never come at the expense of someone else.” He noted powerfully.

Unfolding the global scene, he discussed the travesties of Iraq and Afghanistan, critiqued countries of disproportionate power, and proclaimed his desire for a multipolar world with distinct and weighted voices. He was a true humanist.

He moved on to suggest the striking effect of recency bias, using the Covid-19 pandemic as an instance, in leading people to make oftentimes misguided judgments based on recent events and neglect that we have entered different realities.

“History is something that can pull us out of the present moment and the recent past to remind us about the full range of human experience — just what an immense range of possibilities there are.”

I lingered upon his insights of historical perspectives, pondering, and wishing to glimpse his dreams.

Aside from the hope to teach Chinese history one day, he aims for more modest dreams as he gets older.

“The last four years at YK PAO have been really happy times.” Being able to pursue his curiosity in learning while playing a meaningful role in others’ lives was the lifestyle he dreamt of.

Mr. Rotundo having tea with Mr. Holmes

“It probably doesn’t actually get all that much better than that.” His eyes sparkled with the warmth of serene gratitude.

He jokingly mocked himself for ending up living in a region he hadn’t studied as a history major before. However, he has thus committed to a one-year program in England on Chinese studies, where he’s ready to study the history from the Qing dynasty to the present and Chinese literature in the 20th century after leaving YK Pao.

“Learning about language and culture, you never know where it will take you.”

Without too specific goals, he loves to delve further into the Chinese language and culture, as “the door it can unlock keeps life interesting.”

“When you learn someone else’s language, it means a lot to them.”

As an American native English speaker, he recognizes the importance of not imposing English on others as a necessity but advocating for the universal sharing of multilingual abilities.

“The encounters I have when I travel…people are really excited to meet foreigners who speak Chinese. One of the things that’s especially nice about Chinese as a language to learn is that, by speaking Chinese, I can see just how much friendliness there is in China for foreigners.”

Mr. Rotundo at the HuangGuoShu waterfall (GuiZhou)

He soon began recalling his affection for the humanities and how it intertwined with the essence of speaking a new language.

“There’s a multiplication effect — all of the learning you can do about the range of human experience, what people are like, and what it means to be a human. When you learn a new language, you can double that.”

“One other reason: It’s fun!”

He relished the history of Chinese characters, expressing his love to play with the sound of language. He took learning a new language as a hobby rather than a chore.

Wondering what places his nomadic ways took him, I asked about his most stunning trip. After recounting multiple breathtaking journeys, he told me about Qinghai and Gansu.

“Western China is just incredible…I just love visiting out there, and the landscape is gorgeous like nothing I have ever seen before… it’s just such a different place.”

Struggling to find the words, he recalled visiting MoGaoKu to see the art that remained vivid after 1300 years, emphasizing that traveling falls under the same umbrella of the humanities.

“Seeing what people that long ago were capable of doing without electric drills and getting a little glimpse into MoGaoKu… when you think about why this was made, you get a glimpse into a different life and a different world ——right on the edge of the desert, carving out these caves for the Buddha, knowing what risks they were taking and wanting to secure a good reincarnation. We are very lucky in the modern world with how safe we are.”

He commented on people’s safety as a blessing of the modern world and borrowed his lens to reflect on the pandemic from a different angle.

“What's unusual about this recent pandemic is not how bad it was but how successful we were in mitigating the impact of the virus and how quickly multiple countries came up with a vaccine. The last time there was a pandemic on that scale with such a dangerous disease, tens of millions of people died. We are lucky to live in the time we do, and that’s the thing when historical perspective encounters with history when you travel can help you see.”

Mr. Rotundo at Gansu

In addition to being a teacher, Mr. Rotundo has also been a dorm parent for B house ( in 2011, when there were only two dorms), G house, and E house from middle to high school, and he paid attention to whether the children were combing their hair and showering with soap. I was amazed by his meticulous care for young students.

“One thing that will surprise E house boys is that in my personal life, I tend to be fairly laid back and forgiving, where I am very strict with them, especially about lights out and technology.”

I laughed heartily, remembering hearing hilarious anecdotes about “Mr. Rotundo's Thursday supervision.”

For the last question, I asked him if he would consider settling down. “Without going into too much detail”, he playfully said.

“One thing that living abroad has taught me is what settling down might look like. It’s not necessarily a place or in your hometown so I don’t know what that will look like…like we are saying before, part of the beauty of life is uncertainty.”

He embraces the unpredictable, cherishes every opportunity, and is always on his way to exploring human truth amidst the unknown.

Among the symphony of laughter and conversations, an hour flew by unnoticed. He chose to finish up with a message to the YK Pao students.

“Teaching at YK Pao is a dream, and that’s very much because of the students.”

“I could be 85 years old and have an assisted living home — who knows about what country — and I will be delighted to get a message from a YK Pao student. I hope that our time here is just the beginning of a long friendship over many years and many conferences.”

His voice was tender yet resonant. The sun almost fell below the horizon as we strolled down the stairs into the hues of lavender. Along the way, with light curiosity and a genuine smile, he asked me about my family and weekends.

It was a smile that whispered of countless shared moments, a moment that I dwelled on, savoring the aftertaste before the chaos of the world intruded once more.

He strode ahead until his silhouette melted in the twilight as if the beauty of uncertainty was dissolved in the fading lights—in the permanent spirit of humanity he left.