Archive

Feeling exhausted in my second year of university coping with schoolwork and Kingston’s long winter, I decided to apply for exchange and escape my daily routines to explore the world during my third year.Continue...

I will never meet my grandfather. His death in 1978 makes that impossible. But I would be grossly mistaken—and I was—to think that means I’d never have a relationship with him.Continue...

I arrived at Queen’s with many things: clothes, my great-aunt’s old mini fridge, a box of books, and a lot of bad preconceptions about university. By the time I carried that same box of books back down the residence stairs to my mom’s car, I’d accumulated a few more misguided ideas.Continue...

The first night I spent at Queen’s in my residence room was hellish. I wasn’t feeling the tricolour spirit, and I missed home desperately. I wanted to go back to Scarborough.Continue...

The first time I told this story, I was in my first year of university. I was sitting on the grass at City Park, just a few blocks away from Queen’s, with my orientation leaders and group. We were playing Two Truths and a Lie, and one of my truths was that I was a 20-year-old first-year student.Continue...

Until the day I needed one, I’d never planned to get an abortion in my life.Continue...

This must be some mistake.Continue...

Seeing everyone you know in the ARC, passing a horde of purple engineers on your walk to class or using the Romanian flag emoji as a tricolour stand-in, can only be described as “so Queen’s.”Continue...