A sweaty mob of university students, clutch dollar beers and vodka cranberries, waiting for something to happen. Then the Disc Jockey (DJ) plays the right song—and the dance floor erupts.

What began as a Calgary-based regional poetry recitation quickly evolved into a censorship controversy that has captured national attention.

Somewhere between high-stress case competitions and nerve-wracking coffee chats, the nerves turn into confidence, and consulting becomes a top career prospect for many Queen’s students.

For some Queen’s students, off-campus living no longer smells like spilled drinks, moldy appliances, and damp basements.

As Queen’s unveiled its Bicentennial Vision for 2041, a leaked consultant document obtained by The Journal outlined specific structural changes on a similar timeline.

In 2003, Queen’s homecoming spilled into the streets. Beer cups passed between strangers, alumni lingered for conversations, and Johnston St., pulsed with student energy.

When Erin Meger, assistant professor in the School of Computing, watches students open their laptops, she no longer knows whether they’re searching for answers—or generating them.

Student life isn’t only unfolding in classrooms, bars, and libraries—but is developing across curated digital feeds. 

Studies and conversations show students who snooze, win—or at least they certainly don’t lose.

While most students worry about midterms and meal plans, young caregivers at Queen’s are quietly juggling a second, heavier life—managing medications, navigating hospitals, and carrying the emotional weight of a loved one’s illness, often without even realizing that caregiver is the word for what they’ve become.

When Katie Nash, ConEd ’28, started at Queen’s, she expected financial independence to be the norm. Instead, she discovered how rare it is to meet another student who’s paying for their own education.

Walking the streets over Homecoming (HOCO)  and FOCO weekend, students like Maia Cossette, ArtSci ’26, say the bright, vibrant campus energy is reflected in Queen’s enduring sense of style.

When a breakup hit harder than expected during his first year at Queen’s, Dennis Han, ArtSci ’26, didn’t start seeing a therapist—he built one.

When Clarissa Griffin, ArtSci ’26, builds her course schedule, she always checks Rate My Professors.

Queen’s students remind peers that education—in all facets of the word—is essential for dismantling colonial myths and cultivating reconciliation.