There is no greater support a person can offer than to look someone straight in the eye and say with conviction, “I believe in you.” It changes the way you see yourself. For me—and for countless students and colleagues at the USC School of Cinematic Arts—David Weitzner was that person. He not only brought out the best in others, but also embodied what it meant to be a Trojan: generous, fearless, and steadfast in his belief that storytelling changes lives. To know David was to feel seen, believed in, and inspired to dream just a little bigger.

I met David when I was a student in the Summer Program, just as he was stepping into its leadership role for the first time. Little did I know that he would shape my entire career. I will never forget our first encounter. David was sitting with colleague Jon Voight, of all people, and greeted me as if I were already part of the team. That was David. He didn’t distinguish between “students” and “professionals”—he saw potential in everyone and treated them as though they already belonged in the world of cinema.

Years later, I had the privilege of working alongside him as his Assistant Director of the Summer Program, developing new curriculum to guide future filmmakers. Over more than a decade, our relationship evolved from teacher-student to mentor-collaborator. We spent countless hours discussing new course opportunities, securing grants for low-income students, and brainstorming “out-of-the-box strategies” to grow the program. What began as professional respect transformed into a lifelong friendship that extended far beyond campus.

As a leader, David had a gift for empowering others. He often said, “You take this one, Ty.” He believed in people’s potential to rise to the challenge. He made you feel trusted, capable, and truly seen. David’s “open door policy” wasn’t just a phrase; it was a promise. From students nervously walking into his office for the first time to colleagues finding their footing in Hollywood, David made you feel confident and capable of handling any challenge.

One of David’s most endearing qualities was his love of storytelling. He delighted in sharing tales from his days as Head of Marketing at 20th Century Fox and Universal Studios—especially about Star Wars or E.T. [the Extra-Terrestrial]. But what made him truly special was what came next: he would invite you to share your story, and he listened with the same wonder you had just given him.

In an industry often obsessed with final results, David believed in celebrating effort as much as accomplishment. He didn’t measure success by the scale of the project, but by the courage it took to pursue it. 

David was more than my boss—he was a mentor, a confidant, and, truly, a father figure. He was the first person I called with good news and the one I turned to when life felt uncertain. Over our fifteen years of friendship, he championed my growth from making small short films to negotiating multi-million-dollar projects. Where others might have forced me to choose between my job and my filmmaking dreams, David said, “Go for it. We’ll make it work.” He celebrated my ambitions as if they were his own. Even after we both left USC, we stayed close through weekly calls, lunches, and long conversations that always ended with his signature encouragement: “You’ve got this, my friend.”

David Weitzner embodied the very best of what it means to be a USC Trojan. In a business full of gatekeepers, he built sliding doors. If he could help someone by connecting them, advising them, or simply believing in them, he did. 

His legacy isn’t just in the studios he ran, the programs he led, or the students he taught; it lives on in every filmmaker, colleague, and friend who now walks a little taller because David once looked them in the eye and said, “You’ve got this, my friend.”

Fight on, David. You always did.