Home. It’s funny, now that I’m in college I catch myself sometimes referring to my dorm room as my home. Not my house but my home. There’s a difference. Anyone can live in a house but not everyone can feel “at home” in their own house. I guess that means that I have made a home for myself in my dorm room. I have pictures and different objects in my dorm that remind me of my real home, but are those the reason why I sometimes call it home? Maybe it’s that I feel safe and comfortable in there. Not only that, but I have friends that I care about there – that probably is a big part of what I consider home. The people there. They say home is where the heart is. I guess this means that I have a couple homes then. My heart is always with my family and my culture but I am also very happy being here. I wonder how someone like Riverbend in Baghdad Burning really feels about the concept of home. How would it feel to see you home being torn apart in a war? Especially for an adult…having to see everything you’ve worked so hard for – gone. Ruined.
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