How Las Vegas’ Dancing Dreidels Became a Chanukah Phenomenon

They march onto NFL fields, get booked by news stations, mobbed by fans, and chased by lines of selfie-seekers — and no, they’re not influencers. They’re Dancing Dreidels.

When Rabbi Levi Harlig, who now heads Friendship Circle of Las Vegas, was studying in London thirteen years ago, he went with friends to help out at a local Chabad Menorah lighting. The Rabbi there handed them Dreidel costumes to wear — and something clicked instantly. “We walked into the event and the whole place erupted,” he recalled. “You could feel the energy in the room.”

He immediately knew he needed to bring this concept to his hometown of Las Vegas, where his father Rabbi Shea Harlig heads Chabad of Southern Nevada. So he ordered some dreidel suits and recruited a few friends to join him. That first Chanukah, the newly minted Dancing Dreidels hit the Strip. They visited parties, menorah lightings, and homes across the city. The reaction was immediate and overwhelming. Everywhere they went, people stopped, stared, laughed, danced along, and asked questions.

Within a few years, the Dancing Dreidels had become a staple of Chanukah in Las Vegas, now making over sixty stops every  Chanukah. Old-age homes, shopping malls, corporate campuses, country clubs, and the mayor’s office all became annual destinations on the Dreidel route.

And then came the sports world. The Las Vegas Raiders invited them onto the field, turning the Dreidels into unofficial mascots of Jewish visibility. The Golden Knights welcomed them rink-side. Local news stations began booking them for live segments, and crowds formed wherever they danced. Rabbi Levi Harlig admitted, “The Dreidels have celebrity status. People line up just to take pictures.”

One person who’s had a front-row seat to their rise is Mike Davis, a longtime Las Vegas media personality who now hosts sports programming for FOX5 and the Silver State Sports & Entertainment Network.

In 2020, Chabad invited him to a socially-distanced Chanukah event, and before long he found himself standing six feet away from Rabbi Levi Harlig and the Dancing Dreidels — who soon convinced him to suit up as well.

“I had the whole costume on — the hat, a kippah on top of the hat, the mask underneath — and we did a fully coordinated dance routine live on TV,” he recalled. “It was hilarious, but it was also incredibly meaningful. You could feel how much joy it brought people, especially that year.”

Since then, local TV has continued to feature the Dreidels on air, and whether he’s hosting or not, Davis makes sure to crash their appearance each year.

For Jonathan Jossel, CEO of the Plaza Hotel and Casino, Chanukah in Las Vegas is inseparable from the Dancing Dreidels. “I’m their biggest fan,” he laughed. Every year, there is a massive menorah lighting on Fremont Street — a stretch of downtown Las Vegas that sees more than 22 million visitors annually. “The dreidels are the highlight of the event — right next to our hotel. Tourists stop, people pull out their phones — it’s a spectacle. They bring the fun to Chanukah.”

The celebration isn’t limited to the public square. “The Dreidels come to my house for our neighborhood Chanukah party,” Jossel said. “Chanukah is every kid’s favorite holiday. When they come out with the music and dancing — it makes it even more fun and engaging.”

In recent years the Dreidels’ presence has taken on a deeper importance. With antisemitism rising nationwide, the simple act of showing up joyfully and visibly as Jews feels different than it once did.

That’s why the Dreidels strike Mike Davis as so powerful. “They’re bright, they’re loud, they’re proud, and they’re completely unafraid. I’m an outgoing guy, but they’re more outgoing than me,” he laughed. “These guys are rabbinical students from all over the world, and they show up with this huge, positive energy. Not every rabbi is cut from the same cloth, but to be a Dancing Dreidel you need confidence and joy. You need to attract attention in a good way.”

In a climate where Jewish visibility can feel fraught, he sees the Dreidels as a counter-message — unapologetic and openly proud. “Maybe it looks silly, but it’s incredibly meaningful,” Davis said. “It reminds Jews that we don’t have to dim our light. If anything, we need more of this.”