Nikso’kowa,” Julian Black Antelope says, invoking the Blackfoot concept of interconnectedness. “We are all related. That’s what drives me
I had the pleasure of talking with Julian Black Antelope. Julian is an accomplished actor, director, producer, and writer whose work spans television, film, and documentary storytelling. His unique career trajectory reflects both his personal journey of self-discovery and his commitment to amplifying Indigenous stories in the entertainment industry. Currently, he is garnering attention for his role in NCIS: Origins, which premiered on October 14, 2023. The series marks one of many milestones for Black Antelope, whose diverse projects also include Hulu’s upcoming mini-series Washington Black (2025) and a recent appearance in Wynonna Earp: Vengeance on Tubi.
Born Cree/Métis, Black Antelope’s early life was shaped by adoption, a journey that took him from Southern Alberta into multiple cultural worlds. Initially raised by European parents, he later connected with his Indigenous roots when he was adopted into a Blackfoot family. It was through Blackfoot teachings that he found a sense of identity, grounding himself in the language and customs that continue to shape his life today. Reflecting on his upbringing, Black Antelope acknowledges that understanding where he came from was a complex but vital journey. “Growing up, people would ask me, ‘Who are you?’” he recalls. “I didn’t know how to answer, but today I have the language and teachings to stand in my truth.”
Before pursuing acting, Black Antelope was heavily involved in music. In his late teens, he toured across Canada, performing with various bands in search of a breakthrough. A detour into background work on film sets in Vancouver led him to his first exposure to the entertainment industry. Although he initially saw himself as a musician, his time on sets like Stargate SG-1 sparked a curiosity about acting and filmmaking. That curiosity grew into passion when he moved back to Alberta, where opportunities in film and television began to take shape. His first major break came with Steven Spielberg’s miniseries Into the West, which opened doors for him as both a stunt performer and actor.
Throughout his career, Black Antelope has demonstrated a commitment to creating spaces for Indigenous narratives, both on-screen and behind the camera. One of his most notable achievements is the documentary series Secret History™, which he Created, developed, produced, directed, and starred in. The series, now in its second installment — Secret History: Women Warriors — showcases history through a lens that emphasizes Indigenous storytelling. Filmed in Calgary, the series has allowed Black Antelope to merge his creative vision with his cultural roots. “Playing the Trickster in the series is a way for me to honor storytelling traditions,” he says. “It’s history with an entertaining twist.”
Black Antelope’s versatility as a performer is evident in his broad range of roles, including a lead role in Hulu’s Prey (that unfortunately wound up on the cutting room floor ) — an installment in the Predator franchise. His ability to switch between historical narratives, contemporary crime dramas, and action genres has made him a sought-after talent. However, his ambitions go beyond acting. “I want to act, write, direct, and produce,” he explains. “It’s not just about being in front of the camera — it’s about creating opportunities for others.”
This philosophy extends to his work with the Pathfinders Film Institute, an initiative he founded in 2023 to provide training for Indigenous creatives with a curriculum based on the internal film training program he first conceived and established in 2016 under his production company HERD of 1 MEDIA. Designed to address barriers Indigenous talent face in accessing the film industry, Its hands-on practical approach offers a subsidized two-week certified technical intensive and works to connect participants with key industry contacts to elevate chances of production job placement. “We focus on building relationships,” Black Antelope notes. “Geography often isolates Indigenous talent, but once you know the right people, opportunities start opening up.”
Black Antelope’s perspective on success is rooted in a balance between personal fulfillment and professional achievement. “At the end of the day, you’re not curing cancer,” he says, borrowing a lesson from a mentor. “You have to do your best, but you also have to let it go and trust that what’s meant to be will come back to you.”
Looking ahead, Black Antelope is excited about the future of Indigenous representation in film and television. “The industry is shifting,” he observes. “We’re seeing more Indigenous writers and creators get opportunities, and it’s changing how society views us.” At the same time, he emphasizes the importance of cultural reclamation. “Decolonization isn’t about destruction — it’s about filling yourself with your culture so that there’s no room for the negative things.”
As Black Antelope continues to build his career, his influence within the industry is growing. Whether through his acting roles, writing and directorial work, or mentorship initiatives, he remains committed to lifting others along the way. “If I get through a door, I make sure to hold it open for the next person,” he says. For him, success is not just about individual achievement but about contributing to a larger movement of storytelling and cultural revival. “Nikso’kowa,” he adds, invoking the Blackfoot concept of interconnectedness. “We are all related. That’s what drives me.”
With several high-profile projects on the horizon, including Hulu’s Washington Black and his ongoing work with NCIS: Origins, Julian Black Antelope is poised to leave a lasting impact on the entertainment industry. As he continues to break new ground, his journey serves as a testament to the power of resilience, cultural identity, and storytelling.
Yitzi: Julian, it’s an honor to meet you. Before we dive in, our readers would love to learn about your personal origin story. Can you share the story of your childhood and how you grew up?
Julian: My personal origin story? Well, it all started on a dark and stormy night — no, just kidding. I was adopted. From what I’ve found out in the last few years from my adoption records — heavily redacted, like UFO files — it looks like I was part of the tail end of the ’60s Scoop. I’m Cree /Métis by blood, which I only recently discovered. But I was adopted into a European family and raised by them in the early part of my life. I grew up in Southern Alberta, and later, I was adopted into a Blackfoot family. That’s the culture I identify with now. Those are the teachings I was given, it’s the language I speak, and it’s who I am today.
In the Blackfoot way, there’s an old custom: when a family loses a child, they have the right to claim another person — not to replace the lost one, but to restore the strength of the family. The man who adopted me into his family — he’s like a dad to me — exercised that right. You just become part of the family and the tribe. It’s a really amazing feeling.
There was a time in my life when I was searching for who I am. The European parents who raised me couldn’t help with that. Where I grew up, around Southern Alberta, near the Piikani and Kainai reserves — the Blood reserve — the old people would always ask me, “Kitaniko, what’s your name? Who are you?” They weren’t asking for my given name, Julian — they wanted to know my family, my roots. I never had an answer. I would just say, “I don’t know.” They knew I was Indigenous, but they were curious about where exactly I came from.
That search for identity was a big part of my life. To make a long story short, I grew up a prairie boy, raised on a farm in Southern Alberta. I’m no stranger to hard work — chucking bales and doing chores until 10:30 on school nights was just normal for me. I moved out on my own when I was 15, but I still managed to graduate on time. I believed I needed a diploma because otherwise, nobody would hire me. It was tough — working full-time and supporting myself while staying in school — but I didn’t want to drop out. So I got my diploma, and it’s still one of my biggest achievements. Funny thing is, to this day, no one’s ever asked to see it. But that’s okay. I know I got it!
Right after graduation, I got into music. I’d been playing growing up, and I wanted to join bands and tour. I spent about a year and a half, maybe two years, living on the road, traveling all over Canada. I played in every little town and tiny bar you can imagine, doing cover tunes to build up my chops because I wanted to break into original music. I hopped from band to band until I found one that brought me to Vancouver, where I got more involved in the music scene. I gave it a real shot, and we came close to getting signed a couple of times playing original tunes.
While I was in Vancouver, I also got my first taste of film and television. I was a broke musician looking for money, and someone suggested I try background work. I didn’t even know what that was. They said, “You just go to a film set, get paid, eat sandwiches, and meet people.” I thought, “That sounds great — I don’t know anyone here.” So I gave it a shot.
The first set I ever worked on was Stargate SG-1, and it blew my mind. Coming from a small town, I’d never seen anything like it. Back home in Fort Macleod, where I went to school, there were maybe 3,000 people. Films were just not a thing there.
At the time, I still had music on my mind. Even though people told me, “You should try acting,” I was like, “No, I’m a musician.” I was young and stubborn. But later on, when I moved back to Alberta to reconnect with my culture, I decided to give acting a real shot.
Yitzi: So tell us more about how you got into Hollywood.
Julian: How I got into Hollywood? Well, I was working at the Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump. It was my second year there, and my contract had just ended. I was working as a tour guide, but at the time, I was three months behind on rent, living in Fort Macleod. Luckily, I had an amazing landlord — a really kind guy — who knew I wasn’t going to stiff him. But yeah, I was totally broke, and I had to make a choice.
A friend had given me a phone number and said, “If you can get to Calgary, call this number. They’ll pick you up, and you’ll get a job in the oil fields. You could make anywhere from eight to ten grand a month.” It was tempting. The money was great, but I knew that kind of work wasn’t for me. It’s not that it was hard work — it just didn’t feel like it had any meaning for me beyond a paycheck.
I also had another phone number. This one was for a background gig on a film set in Calgary, for a show called Into the West. They were offering $10 an hour — not exactly oil field money — but I remembered what background work was like in Vancouver, and I thought, “Maybe if I get on set here, I can meet people and figure out a way into the industry.” So, I took the chance. I drove two and a half hours, probably spent more on gas than I was going to make, but I did two or three days of background work.
One thing led to another. People found out I could ride horses, so I started doing some stunt and SSE work. Then they realized I knew a lot of Native riders from the reserve — guys who were pro rodeo riders — and they asked, “Do you want to help with the production? You could wrangle these guys, organize them, and shuttle them back and forth.” I said, “Sure!” So suddenly, I had a bit of a steady gig — doing stunts, riding, and organizing the other riders.
Not long after, a casting director named Rhonda Fisekci heard about me. She liked my personality and reached out. She asked, “Do you speak your language?” I told her, “Well, I’m not fluent in Blackfoot, but I can speak it.” And she said, “Great. You’ll just need to audition in Blackfoot.”
I gave it a shot, even though I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t get that role, but it led to another audition for a different part. I went in, auditioned, and this time the director cast me. And I was cast alongside Graham Greene. I was blown away! I mean, I grew up watching Graham Greene on TV, and now here I was, working with him. It was surreal — an incredible experience.
That one show, Into the West, opened so many doors for me. It gave me a direction I hadn’t known I needed. I felt like the Creator was giving me a choice at a really important time in my life. I was at a crossroads, trying to clean up my act. I had quit drinking, quit drugs, and was determined to stop being an idiot. I knew I wanted to do something meaningful with my life, even though it felt like a late start.
The way I saw it, the Creator was saying, “You already know where the other road leads. Why not try something new?” So I did. And I’m so grateful I made that choice because it became the foundation for everything I do today.
Yitzi: Can you share with our readers one or two anecdotes or memories that stand out most from your professional career?
Julian: Okay, I’ll give you one. When I was taking inventory of my life, making changes, and cleaning up my act, I remember someone in my family asking me, “What are you going to do with your life? You’re 36, 37 years old — what are you doing?” I told them exactly what I wanted to do: “I want to act, I want to write, I want to direct, and I want to produce.” And they literally laughed at me. They couldn’t hold it in.
I just stood there thinking, “Alright, if that’s how you feel.” But for me, their doubt was fuel. I put it in my pocket and said to myself, “I’m glad you think I won’t do it — because now I’m going to show you who I am.” That moment sticks with me. It became one of my biggest driving forces.
Another story? Let’s talk about the first time I got into stunts. My contract for wrangling the riders had ended, and I was still hanging around on set. One of the liaisons came over and said, “You should get dressed today. There’s no job for you right now, but someone might pull you in for something.”
I thought, “Okay, why not?” I remembered that quote — I might be misquoting it — but I think Woody Allen said, “99% of success is just showing up.” And he was right. There I was, freezing my butt off in Drumheller, wearing buckskins, not getting paid, just waiting around.
Then the stunt coordinator came over to three of us and asked, “Which one of you wants to take a fall off a horse?” Without thinking, I said, “I’ll do it!”
In my head, I figured, “I got bucked off plenty of times for free growing up — might as well get paid for it now.” I didn’t even know what the paycheck was going to be, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to give it a shot.
That first stunt ended up on camera — it’s still on my stunt reel. I ride by, and a guy clotheslines me off a horse, and I go flying into a bunch of stampeding horses. That one moment was a game-changer. I wasn’t overly eager, but I was just eager enough to say yes. And that’s how I landed my first stunt gig — it was really just a matter of being in the right place at the right time.
Yitzi: It’s been said that sometimes our mistakes can be our greatest teachers. Do you have a story about a humorous mistake you made when you were first starting in entertainment, and what lesson you learned from it?
Julian: A humorous mistake? Oh yeah, there are plenty of those. Learning the acting process was a lot of trial and error for me. I wasn’t in a position to afford acting lessons — they were pretty expensive — so my “school” was really just watching other actors, talking to them, and seeing how their personalities differed from their characters. And, of course, making a lot of dumb mistakes during auditions.
I remember one audition in particular. I’d read somewhere that you need to project your voice, so I thought, “Alright, that’s what they want!” I went into the room and started speaking really loud, projecting like I was in a theater. And the casting director stopped me right there and said, “Hey, Julian, you’re going to be mic’d on the day — it’s okay. You can just speak in your normal voice.”
That kind of thing happened a lot. I’d walk out of the room knowing I definitely wasn’t getting the gig, but each time I learned something new — another thing not to do. And slowly, by figuring out what not to do, I started understanding what I should do.
Yitzi: We love hearing stories about people opening doors or creating opportunities that change someone’s career. Do you have a story where someone did that for you — or where you did it for someone else?
Julian: Oh, definitely. I’m not sure if it changed their career, but it certainly helped. I know what it’s like to be on the outside looking in, with no one offering a hand, so I decided to create my own opportunities. That’s why I write, direct, and produce my own projects — so I don’t have to wait for permission or anyone’s blessing. I get to put whoever I want in front of the camera.
I’ve always believed that if I manage to get through a door — because I’m stubborn and bull-headed — then I should pass down opportunities to others whenever I can. If I hear about something that fits someone I know, I’ll gladly pass it along.
One example: I was working in Ireland, and my character had just been killed off in a series I was doing. The producer called me and asked, “Julian, can you recommend any actors for some roles?” I said, “Yeah, I know a guy — and another guy too.” I gave him their names, and I don’t think they even auditioned. The producer just cast them. They got to come over to Ireland and work on Dominion Creek — which is now called An Klondike on Netflix.
I don’t know if it was life-changing for them, but it gave them a solid international credit and a good paycheck. In my own productions, I’ve also provided paid training opportunities. Some of the people who started with me have gone on to build amazing careers. A few have even come back and said, “You gave me my first crack at this.”
That’s incredibly rewarding to hear. Even if just one person takes the opportunity and runs with it, it feels amazing.
Yitzi: Amazing. So, can you tell us about the exciting projects you’re working on now? You have so much great work. Let us know what’s on your plate right now — and what you hope to be working on in the near future.
Julian: As an actor, my focus right now is on NCIS Origins. I play a character named Dr. Témet Téngalkat whose from the Payómkawichum people (aka Luiseño) — he’s an awesome character. I’m really excited to see where the writers take him. Being part of such a hugely successful show — one that set the bar for procedural dramas — is incredible. But what’s even more exciting is that this character has depth. He’s an Indigenous character in a contemporary narrative, and that gives me a chance to bring something meaningful to the role. Hopefully, I can contribute to the show’s legacy and help expand the way Indigenous characters are represented on screen.
There are no guarantees, of course. So far, I’ve only been called for a handful of episodes, so we’ll see where it goes from here. But I’m excited for anything they want to throw my way.
I’m also working on my own television series, Secret History™ . We’re heading into our third season. It’s a documentary series, and each season is new and creative work unique unto itself with all stand alone episodes. I play the Trickster again, and it’s a way of bringing history to life with a bit of an entertaining twist. I create, write, produce, direct, and act in it — so it takes up a lot of my time.
On top of that, I’m developing another scripted series, which I’m hopeful to get greenlit soon — fingers crossed.
I’m also launching a training initiative with the Nakoda Stoney Nation this November through the Pathfinders Film Institute, which is another project I’ve been building. Pathfinders offers subsidized, community-based training for Indigenous creatives. It’s a BIPOC-focused institute where we go into communities and offer two-week technical intensives. Participants earn certifications, get a bit of cash to keep things running at home, and we work to place them on productions afterward.
The most important part of this initiative is building relationships with industry professionals. Making those connections is often the hardest part for Indigenous talent because geography can make it tough to break into the industry. But once you know the right people and have built relationships, opportunities start to open up. That’s something we’re really focused on.
And somewhere in the middle of all that, I’m trying to be a father and a husband.
Yitzi: Incredible. What’s your opinion about the current state of representation of Native people in television and film?
Julian: The current state? It’s definitely changing for the better — it’s starting to improve. Up until the BIPOC movement, Indigenous people were the most underrepresented demographic in both film and television. If we were included at all, it was usually the same old “leathers and feathers” or “spooks and spirits” stories. Outside of those stereotypes, there was no space for Indigenous characters.
But that’s changing now. A show like NCIS Origins is a great example of how industry leaders are making visible changes — and that creates a positive ripple effect across the industry. It’s not just about creating roles; it also shifts how society perceives Indigenous people.
That said, we still see projects where it’s clear someone added an Indigenous element just to access funding. You have to watch out for those — they’re just ticking boxes. But overall, things are moving in the right direction. We’re seeing more writers’ rooms open up to diverse perspectives, bringing in Black, Indigenous, Asian and writers of various other ethnicities.. You can’t fake that kind of authenticity, no matter how experienced a writer is.
And on set, I’ve noticed productions are more open to feedback. As an actor, it’s not always your place to speak up, but if something feels off from an Indigenous perspective, people are willing to listen — and they’ll make changes. So yeah, it’s moving in a positive direction, and I think we’ll see even more progress in the future.
Yitzi: You’ve been blessed with a lot of success now. Looking back to when you first started acting, can you share five things that you know now that you wish someone had told you back then?
Julian: Okay… if were talking about acting–here’s five things.
- It’s not going to happen overnight.
The journey is different for all of us. Everyone’s path is unique, and you can’t compare your path to anyone else’s. Just because someone seems to hit it big right away doesn’t mean you’re behind. Stay on your path — it unfolds in its own time. - Don’t be afraid to take risks — creative risks.
Never play it safe. Safe is boring on camera — it won’t grab attention. What’s on the page is just the foundation; don’t be afraid to explore beyond it. Make bold choices and try something different. Even if it doesn’t land, taking risks makes you memorable. - Have thick skin.
You’ll hear a lot of “no’s” — a wall of them. But you’ve got to keep smashing into that wall until it breaks down. The rejection can wear on you, but if you keep pushing, those “no’s” will eventually turn into “yes’es.” And the more often you hear “yes,” the more frequently it’ll come. - Invest in yourself.
Don’t wait for someone to hand you an opportunity or offer you money for headshots. If you have to live off tuna and instant noodles to save for professional headshots, do it. Casting directors and producers are investing in you — they need to see that you’ve invested in yourself first. - You’re not curing cancer.
This is something a good friend and mentor of mine, Shaun Johnston — who stars in Heartland — told me: “At the end of the day, you’re not curing cancer.” Storytelling is important, but don’t take it too seriously. Be real and authentic with the character, but let it go when you leave the audition room. Hit your beats, do your best, and then move on. If you hold on too tightly, you’ll just squeeze the life out of it. Trust that what’s meant to be will come back to you.
Yitzi: Wow, amazing. Those are really great answers. So, here’s our aspirational question. Because of your great work and the platform you’ve built, you have enormous influence. If you could spread an idea or inspire a movement that would bring the most good to the most people, what would it be?
Julian: Ah… If I could sum it up in one word, it would be Nikso’kowa. It’s a Blackfoot word that literally means, “We are all related. All my relations.”
If you hold onto that idea in everything you do — never forgetting that we are all connected — it changes the way you live. It doesn’t matter what your skin color is. We all have the same blood flowing in our veins. We’re all born, we live, breathe, and die. We hurt and feel the same things.
In Blackfoot culture, when we greet others, we say Nikso’kowa as a reminder to ourselves, too. Everyone you meet is part of your family — fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles. We are all one family, one people.
Yitzi: That’s amazing. You know, I’m Jewish, and we have the exact same concept in Judaism. It goes: Kulanu Bnei Adam Echad”, it means, “We are all children of one man.”
Julian: That’s beautiful.
Yitzi: I’ve noticed some interesting parallels between the Jewish experience and Indigenous experiences. Do you have thoughts about generational trauma? Is that something you see among Indigenous people too — how trauma gets passed down, like anxiety or suffering?
Julian: Yeah, no, it’s very real. Generational trauma is definitely a thing, especially for Indigenous people. A lot of it goes back to the residential schools — especially here in Canada. I might even be a product of intergenerational trauma through my birth parents.
But honestly, generational trauma affects everyone to some degree. Take people who grew up in warzones — like my adoptive parents, for example. My dad grew up in Germany, in Danzig, during the war. He had to become the man of the house at 15. I can’t even imagine what that was like — living on horse meat, snakes, and whatever he could find to keep his family alive.
That kind of experience stays with you. It probably explains why my dad was such a hard man. He wasn’t affectionate — no hugs or “I love you” or anything like that. His mindset was, “I’m going to teach you how to survive.”
So yeah, generational trauma is real. But it’s not an excuse to pass it on. When I became a parent, I was terrified. I didn’t know what kind of parent I’d be. But I made a choice: I would separate the good things my dad taught me from the bad. And I told myself, “I will not do the bad things.” That was my starting point.
I’ve never laid a hand on my kids — never done anything like that. It’s up to each person to decide when to break the cycle. What happened to you matters, but you can’t hide behind it. You have to use it as strength.
For me, the way my dad treated me made me physically tough. I’m not the toughest guy in the world, but I’m not afraid of anyone. I can walk down a rough street at 4:30 in the morning and feel fine, because I survived my father.
There’s really nothing anyone could do to me that would be worse — except maybe kill me. So you take that trauma, and you turn it into something that serves you.
And with acting and writing, those have become my outlets for processing trauma. They allow me to revisit those dark parts of myself, bring them into the light, and examine them — without hurting anyone else. In that way, the arts become a tool for healing intergenerational trauma.
Yitzi: That’s a really amazing point — using the arts as a way to heal trauma. And I guess it’s also part of the political and cultural conversation right now — the whole idea of decolonization. You know, as you know, the Americas are former colonies. I’m curious — when you were growing up, did you have those kinds of conversations about colonization? Is there a discussion within Indigenous communities about getting rid of colonial structures?
Julian: Yeah, decolonization is definitely something we talk about. And it’s something we need to do, especially when you look at things like the residential schools. In those schools, our people were beaten just for speaking their own language. And that’s significant because language is where the culture lives. The people in charge back then knew exactly what they were doing — they were trying to erase Indigenous culture by erasing the language.
So yeah, there’s a real need to reclaim those things. We need to reclaim our culture and use it as the foundation for how we move forward. But at the same time, we’ve also benefited from some of the tools that came with colonization. We’re using those tools today — like this conversation we’re having through technology — so it’s really about finding a balance.
When I talk to young Indigenous creatives, I always encourage them to immerse themselves in their culture. Talk to the elders, attend the ceremonies — even if you don’t fully understand it yet. Just sit there, listen, and learn. The more you know about your culture, the more it decolonizes you from within. It becomes the foundation for everything you do or create.
For me, it’s just part of who I am. Like, before this interview, I did a smudge ceremony — that’s my practice. It’s part of me, and I carry it with me wherever I go. That’s one way of staying decolonized — not through rebellion, but by filling yourself with your culture.
It’s like a glass of water — if you keep filling it with the right stuff, it pushes out everything else. A glass can only hold so much. So the more you fill yourself with your culture, the less space there is for the negative things.
Yitzi: That’s an amazing way to look at it. And it’s really profound. A lot of people seem to think decolonization is about violence or destruction, but the way you’re describing it — it’s more of a personal, cultural transformation.
Julian: Exactly. I don’t believe in playing the blame game. In the work I do, especially with my series, I tell people it’s not about pointing fingers. It’s not about, “You did this, and you did that.” The elders we work with speak the truth — they don’t hold back — but the goal isn’t to throw bricks through the window. It’s to open the door and let in some fresh air.
And humor is a big part of that process. Humor gets through to people in a way that nothing else can. It helps us connect, heal, and move forward.
Yitzi: That’s so interesting. It reminds me of a teaching in Judaism. It says that before a teacher starts a lesson, they should tell a joke. Because laughter opens the mind and connects people — it puts you in a different frame of mind.
Julian: Exactly. That’s the same idea in our culture. My Indian dad — he’s very serious and stoic, the kind of guy who can burn holes through you with a stare. But even in ceremonies, humor is always present. Indigenous people have always used humor, even in the most serious situations. It’s how we balance things. We can deal with serious stuff, but we don’t have to lose our playful side. And when you keep that playful spirit alive, it has a positive impact on everything.
Yitzi: How can our readers continue to follow your work? And how can they support what you’re doing?
Julian: Well, I’m still getting my websites up and running again. I’ve got someone managing that for me. I’ll send you the links once they’re ready, and you can add them to the interview.
I’m also working on building my social media presence. I’m terrible at social media. I forget to post, and I’ve never really enjoyed it. I’m trying to get better at it, though, because people say you need a social media presence nowadays. I’m like, “Okay, I’ll try.” But yeah, you put yourself out there, and of course, there are always going to be haters. But what can you do? They’re just angry.
Yitzi: Well, thank you so much for the interview. It’s really been an honor to speak with you. I wish you continued success and blessings in everything you do. And I would love to do this again next year when you have another film project.
Julian: I’d love that!
Julian Black Antelope On Five Things You Need To Create A Highly Successful Career in TV & Film was originally published in Authority Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.