It wasn’t long ago that I, fresh as ever from my year at an Israeli college, stepped foot on campus. I remember my amazement at the girth of our Yeshiva, the appearance of an actual quasi-campus, which I never imagined. I was so very happy to walk from one building to the next. Even having to walk around the almost dead grassy patch outside of Rubin didn’t bother me that much.

However, despite my friend’s insistence that we were "going to spend three years in the greatest city in the state!" I refused to accept that we were actually part of the city, especially once I got there.

He brought evidence from the MTA, not to be confused with TMSTA ("We’re still part of Manhattan,") while I gave more visual proof ("Yeah, but the little map in the cabs doesn’t show detail of Washington Heights, as it does the rest of the city"). He said, "People near YU vote for Manhattan offices," but I responded, "So what? We’re just so far from the action. We may as well be in the Bronx!"

But this past week, as I was walking down 5th Avenue and 42nd street, I finally felt something different. Although I’m from South Africa, Los Angeles, and most recently, Washington Heights, which explains much about my personality, I finally felt a genuine heartstrings connection to New York City. I’ll admit, it may have something to do with the beauty of the city that emerges during this (for us, post) holiday season, but I still comfortably strolled through Rockefeller Center without the gaze of a tourist, shopped on Madison Avenue less the astonishment of a foreigner, and I even ate at a popular steakhouse near Broadway lacking the wonder of a "West-Coaster" (where there are fewer kosher restaurants).

None of this is to say that I am without the love - or even with less love - of this city than before my newfound sentiment of residency. In fact, quite the opposite: Once I’ve gotten past those naïve barriers, the deep beauty, culture, and warmth of Manhattan emerges.

But, more importantly, what I declare is the true, real, actual, genuine, honest, absolute, definite, connection between Yeshiva University and the City of New York. Folks, our campus may be placed in Washington Heights, but we detract from much of our potential college experience when we separate ourselves - even begrudgingly - from the rest of our hometown. Even the U.S. News university rankings placed us on the cover as one of three "Colleges in [the New York City] Area."

Rather than focus on the importance of "declaring" YU as residing in NY, I say we need to focus on taking more from "the city that never sleeps." Take a look in the past few course catalogs: History of New York City; Architecture in New York; Halacha in New York; Art in New York; and Evolution of thy Skyscraper (ostensibly dealing primarily with Skyscrapers).

I know, I know: It’s far, so very very far, it’s a hassle, a bother, a nuisance, it takes time to go down, there. But we’re not more than twenty minutes from a popular museum, a hit show, a comfortable movie theater, Teaneck, or a female Jewish college. The BD shuttles, the A train, the 1/9 train, or even, yes, Family San Juan, can take each and everyone to probe new parts of the City or even the world.

And, although, New York is, I insist, our home, try to come out, and see it like a tourist. When was the last time you went to a museum? (We have a museum on campus, and I have never been there.) There is absolutely a museum for whatever one’s interest (even a museum of television and radio broadcasting). Have many of us purchased student price tickets for events at Lincoln Center, the 92nd Street Y or the Cloisters? Probably not, yet these are experiences that are "uniquely New York." And I don’t use that phrase lightly, as do many designers (see Donna Karan, Kenneth Cole, Richard Sieger, To Boot, Kate Spade).

So, come out there! And if you find yourselves admiring the rubber Mickey Mouse dolls dressed as the Statue of Liberty, or wearing items that say, "I LOVE NY," or ogling the interesting and thought provoking crowds in Times Square, don’t worry… just say no and go and tell someone you really trust. Think of it as hometown-pride! And, don’t be surprised if you hear a, "What are you looking at?"