A therapist explains how dance and drama provided solace from the antisemitism she suffered at school
October 10, 2025 10:00
Loni Fagel’s appointment diary is packed. The American therapist specialises in helping people through medical trauma, grief and loss and the fact she is Jewish is a bonus to many of her clients. Experiencing severe antisemitism as a child has equipped her, she says, with the tools to support those feeling vulnerable amid soaring global antisemitism today.
Fagel grew up in the late 1980s in a town in the western suburbs of Chicago, with her younger brother and sister in what she describes as a traditional Jewish household. Theirs was also one of the few Jewish families in a neighbourhood, which also hosted a large neo-Nazi faction – there was a regular police presence at the tiny local synagogue Fagel attended.
Speaking by Zoom from her home in Minneapolis, she describes how her initially happy childhood became a nightmare which left her with post-traumatic stress disorder.
Survivor: Loni Fagel (Credit: olivejuicestudios.com)[Missing Credit]
“I was the only Jewish kid at my elementary school,” she says. “One day, my best friend came over to my house and we had one of those ‘Best Friends Forever’ necklaces. She gave it back to me and said, ‘I can’t be your friend any more because you are a JAP’ [Jewish American Princess]. I didn’t really know what that meant and I was devastated.”
Her other friends swiftly followed suit, with their parents’ encouragement, leaving her feeling very isolated. “I couldn’t go over to classmates’ house and play. At school, kids started calling me names like ‘kike’. I had very Eastern European fair skin and dark hair and they would call me ‘Hairy Jew Monkey’. There was one time in the lunch hall when the entire room started chanting it. There were times when I was on the monkey bars and kids would throw rocks at me.”
Interventions by her mother – who she describes as “a force of nature” – proved ineffective and the teachers’ efforts were, shockingly, also futile. “I’d be crying in the bathroom because I’d be trying to hide and it was, ‘Oh, you need to get back to class’. There were a couple of times when I went home sick because I was so overwhelmed. I don’t think the school knew what to do.” It seems not. One of her teachers’ efforts to make her feel included in school life was to add a Chanukah song to the Christmas recital, a move which did not go down well with the other students.
Things improved when Fagel attended middle school where there were a couple of other Jewish children, but she still felt different. “It impacted my relationships and my trust in others. I didn’t realise I was suffering trauma. As a trauma therapist looking back I can now see clearly that I was suffering the after effects of trauma, but at the time I had no idea. It was only when I was in my mid-twenties and struggling with other things that I saw a trauma therapist who said, ‘You have PTSD.’”
Fortunately, neither Fagel’s brother nor sister suffered the same antisemitism at school mostly because, over time, more Jews began to move into the area and overt support for the neighbourhood’s neo-Nazi contingent faded.
Through dance I could express myself – it is all about emotion and release. Looking back, I didn’t realise that that was my therapy
Salvation for Fagel also came in the form of dance and drama. Becoming someone else on stage was the perfect escape for the traumatised young girl. “I started dancing when I was really young and then I saw Beaches [the Bette Midler film] and thought, oh my gosh, there is somebody who is like me!”
“I found solace in acting and performing and I got to release how I was feeling through these characters and through movement. Through dance I could express myself – it is all about emotion and release. Looking back, I didn’t realise that that was my therapy. The arts are what helped me survive my childhood and my adolescence.”
Although performing appealed, Fagel increasingly found herself drawn to working behind the scenes, becoming involved in writing and directing. Reality television was just beginning to take off, and for a time she worked on such series as Paradise Hotel, Amish in the City and Date My Mom. But she gradually recognised that reality TV was not for her. “I realised it wasn’t in line with my morals and values. I felt that I had to manipulate people and I didn’t like it.”
She went back to school, qualified as a counsellor and therapist and moved to Rochester, Minnesota. But after October 7, she felt uneasy as one of the few Jews in the area. “I moved up to Minneapolis with the intention of working in a more Jewish population. The owner of the practice I work at is Jewish, so a lot of people come to me because they are also Jewish and they want someone who understands them. I think there have been about half a dozen times in the last month alone when my Jewish clients have told me about antisemitic comments that have been made to them. I can help others who are experiencing things I have suffered in the past. I think that’s why therapy is the right career for me.”
How can we cope with soaring levels of global antisemitism? “It’s really frightening and there isn’t a straightforward answer. Community is certainly important, finding people with whom you feel safe. But there is also solace in having your experiences simply validated because, much as we try, we can’t fix antisemitism. What we can do, though, is try and educate people. If someone says something antisemitic, tell them why it is not OK.”
The effects of antisemitism can manifest themselves in different ways, she says. “Sometimes one feels anger, but because we have been taught to ignore hatred we push our feelings aside or inject humour into the situation. Humour is a big way of coping for Jews. There’s a balance between not making light of things but also not letting them derail you or letting them deter you from being who you are.”
Fagel is also using her talents to support young children. She has just written Friends of the Bush, a tale inspired by a trip to Africa which tells the story of how a group of animals learn to regulate their emotions and trust others. Another book on antisemitism is in the offing and another, Little Blue Bird is about a bird feeling different and trying to find her people. It hardly needs stating that there is more than a hint of Fagel’s own journey in these stories.
“I don’t feel that I have to wear a mask any more. It’s taken a long time for me to get to this point. And I don’t think I would able to be who I am in the current climate of antisemitism if I had not experienced anti-Jewish racism in my childhood.”
World Mental Health Day takes place on 10 October every year
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