Five years ago, on March 11, 2020, the World Health Organization officially declared COVID-19 a global pandemic. The next day, Queen’s University made the decision to cancel all in-person classes.

Some students have lived to hear the horror stories of renting at Queen’s, others live it: Madison Donnelly, ArtSci ’26, believes she’s living under her landlord’s microscope.

Brutalist buildings seem like they’ve stepped straight out of a disaster movie, often setting the stage for dystopian worlds and post-apocalyptic futures in both film and television—and Mac-Corry follows suit.

Queen’s history isn’t just written—it’s captured. From Princess Diana and King Charles’ Kingston visit in 1991 to The Tragically Hip’s snapshots before becoming legends, The Journal has a knack for capturing history as it unfolds.

From a young age, Victoria Okwudi, Nurs ’25, was drawn to the art of braiding and styling Black hair. She grew up in iration of her aunt, who owned her very own salon, and revered all the “grown folks” getting their hair done while chatting about their grown-up lives.

Sir John A. Macdonald’s legacy is woven into Canada’s history, with Kingston as the loom where a lawyer’s ambitious beginnings shaped the nation’s fabric.

While AI tools like ChatGPT can churn out essays and solve equations in seconds, another, more secretive system of academic thrives under the surface.

The vast majority of students enter their first year of university bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, straight out of high school. However, a growing number of students are choosing to delay their post-secondary education.

Every decade or so, a new set of beauty standards emerges, instructing women to alter their bodies to get as close to the new ideal as possible. Today, the ideal body bears a close resemblance to that of the 1990s and early 2000s—a body type that has been affectionately nicknamed “heroin chic.”

For students who don’t gravitate toward nightlife, university life can feel shaped by a culture that doesn’t quite fit—but there’s more than one way to belong.

To weed out the stress of everyday life, some students turn to cannabis to take the edge off. However, they often face harsh criticism and are sometimes held to a double standard compared to those who choose to indulge in alcohol.

From Mother Teresa to Prophet Muhammad to Siddhartha Gautama, major religious figures are revered for their generosity and comion towards the less fortunate. Religious-d groups at Queen’s strive to embody these same virtues through charity and advocacy initiatives in Kingston and abroad.

Playboy and Pornhub aren’t just warping dating expectations—they’re fueling a culture of sexual violence.

In her first year at Queen’s, Vienna Wiens, ArtSci ’26, enrolled in RELS 137 Religion and Film simply because it was one of the few electives with space to . Little did she know this casual choice would lead her down a spiritual and cinematic rabbit hole.

Like many queer teenagers from a small Ontario town, Vince, the founder of Kingston Raves Community, always dreamt of leaving Kingston to experience the rave scenes in Toronto and Montreal.

Ella Majer, ArtSci ’26, often finds herself sitting in Stauffer Library, surrounded by towering stacks of textbooks and the scent of fresh coffee wafting through the air to keep her awake, but her stomach twists with unease as she keeps the daunting statistics about acceptance rates for law school at the forefront of her mind.