Archive

Last words

This year, the Journal house was mostly empty. 190 University Ave., for me, had always been a hub of activity: layout room laughter, couch room banter, a place to hang out in between classes, last-minute writing, and just plain chaos. Losing all of that would be reason enough to become dispirited, but you, our staff, didn’t.Continue...

Bursting and leaving the commerce bubble

Around this time three years ago, I was anxiously awaiting my acceptance to Queen’s Commerce. At the time, I had already been accepted to every other university I applied to, and I was terrified of being rejected—despite my 96 per cent average and wealth of extracurriculars.Continue...

Tracing my roots back to my Grandfather’s childhood home in Scotland

Two years ago, in a small suburb outside of Glasgow, I had an evening I’ll never forget.Continue...

Learning to say goodbye during the pandemic

I think it’s safe to say everyone has learned something new during the pandemic. Some people picked up knitting, others learned how to skate. What I gained this year, however, was something more significant to me than any hobby. I learned how to say goodbye.Continue...

Navigating my body image following an abortion

For a while now, I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect pair of white, straight leg jeans.

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The melting pot: How my housemates and I bonded over food

When my five housemates and I met in October of our first year at Queen’s, all that connected us was a mutual friend, Amy. We were six young women thrown together, each from different religious backgrounds and ethnicities, all planning to live under the same roof.Continue...

The token Black friend

I’ve found that white people are often more worried about being called racist than they are about actually being racist.Continue...

What it’s like being a ‘Castle Kid’

Back in 2018, I went out on a limb and accepted an offer to do my first year of undergrad at the Queen’s Bader International Study Centre (BISC), located in East Sussex, England, where students go to school at Herstmonceux Castle.Continue...

Uprooting ‘hustle culture’ and its toxic byproducts

I attended a competitive high school where I took AP classes, made honour roll every year, and graduated with awards—but competition wasn’t limited to academic achievement.Continue...

Clubs taught me what my professors couldn’t

January is almost over, and as Journal readers know, the annual search for new student government and club executives is underway. As much as this time is about new beginnings, reflecting on the past helps help shape our goals for the new year.Continue...

Regrowing my foreskin

You know it’s extremely common, right?” That’s what a psychiatrist said to me last summer when I admitted I was contemplating suicide because of my circumcision.Continue...

I thought I’d outgrown my eating disorder. I was wrong.

The story goes that if you put a frog in a pot of boiling water, it will instantly leap out. However, if you put a frog in a pot filled with room-temperature water and heat it slowly, the frog will stay put until it boils to death.Continue...