Thus went the ending of the 1939 movie The Wizard of Oz, "Toto, we're home. Home! And this is my room, and you're all here. And I'm not gonna leave here ever, ever again, because I love you all, and -- oh, Auntie Em -- there's no place like home!" This line, while clichd by its overuse by most of us, describes, what for many of us, is a place in our hearts filled with memories and sensations that can never be replicated. For some of us it's the smell of mom's baking wafting through the air and the gathering of the family around the dinner table. For others, the heart scenes may not be as Rockwellian, but they nonetheless tie us to a place. Perhaps this is why the transition to college can be so difficult for some of us. Home becomes a far away place and familiarity is thrown out the window, especially in the beginning. It is this sense of removal that can feel so scary

Although phone calls from home are great, there is nothing like actually being there to experience daily life. I'm sure we have all had the experience of returning home to find a change in our community. No matter how small this change may be, it's magnified as a result of it's sudden appearance in the home community mosaic.

September 11th stands out as the time during which I felt incredibly removed. As a first-year, only in college for two weeks at the time, I just wanted to be home as soon as I heard the news. It scared me that I couldn't get in touch with my family and that I did not know what was going on in my community back in New York. The whole day and weeks following, I questioned whether I liked being away from home. I loved my newfound freedom and life, but there was still part of me that longed for home, just plain old home.

I think what I was looking for in the aftermath of September 11th, which I felt I could only get from my home, was a sense of community. While not everyone likes their community or takes an active role in it, there is no way to escape its impact. A community provides shared common experiences, helps shape us into who we are and what we value and plays a key role in molding our aspirations. For so many of us, our communities provide an essential support web.

However, as I learned, Brandeis can also be that kind of community. As removed as I felt from my home, it was comforting to know that I was not alone in my feelings. As I walked through my hall, I found many others unable to reach their parents and as worried as I was. By experiencing our fears together, we found support in each other.

Since that memorable day, I have come to appreciate that Brandeis community more and more. Perhaps this is one of the advantages of going to a smaller school. I love the feeling of walking across campus and recognizing so many faces, many of whom I've never spoken with. It is still comforting to see them everyday. They make the unfamiliar become familiar.

My friend that goes to Boston University has had a completely different experience than I. Because of its enormous size, forming a community, even within the greater community, is not as easy as at Brandeis. As my friend explained to me, "it provides an outlet to the larger community. You don't just go to BU, you live in Boston." I guess it is a personal preference, but for me, having a tight knit community, like Brandeis, is more important, at this point in my life, than living in a city.

Although there sure is no place like my real home, now when I click the heels of my ruby red slippers and intone three times, "There's no place like home; There's no place like home; There's no place like home," I look around and see Brandeis. Like so many others, I have a second home here. While I still feel a sense of removal from my real home, I have come to accept this as part of growing up and moving on in life. Home will always be home and I will always feel a sense of connection to it. But it helps to know , unlike Dorothy, I can leave home and still find an amazing community and wonderful people to go with it.

-- Samantha Slater '05 submits a column to the Justice.