Behind the Headlines

When the reporting stops, the reading continues Journalists read and write for…
Collage of politician speaking and crowd with enlarged faces.

Missing Voices

On December 3, 2024, South Korean President Yoon Suk Yeol declared martial law. It was a move for political self-preservation that Yoon retracted only a few hours later. As the first such declaration since the 1980s, when martial law was used to silence pro-democracy protestors, it recalled a time many South Koreans believed was long behind them. In military barracks across the country, young soldiers stayed up late, against orders, watching the news and wondering what it might mean. They were frustrated—would they have to carry out Yoon’s order while serving mandatory military time? “We were very annoyed,” says one soldier, who spoke to the Review on condition of anonymity.
Christian Allaire poses for a picture.

From Nipissing to New York

On the first Monday in May, Christian Allaire, a senior fashion and style writer at Vogue, is up at seven in the morning writing stories in preparation for fashion’s biggest event. By the early afternoon, he is ready and ravishing on Fifth Avenue for the Met Gala’s 2024 red carpet, themed “The Garden of Time.” Allaire, descending from Italian-French and Ojibwe lineage, wears a black suit and blazer detailed with purple lupines and scarlet red Indian paintbrushes—the flowers from back home. His designer, Jamie Okuma, added a traditional black-and-white Ojibwe breechcloth to the pants, mixing the tailored, modern suit with traditional, cultural attire. To top it off, Allaire carries an antique, multicoloured shoulder bag with floral beadwork to represent his heritage and home.
Portrait of Tim Mak

Ukraine Dispatches

Thousands of miles away from his native Vancouver, journalist Tim Mak is…
The background of the image is a light pink, in the foreground, a white ringed notepad is pictured. The notepad reads “See you in the field, xoxo Reporter,” written in cursive. Behind the notepad, lies four other notepads stacked on top of each other. From the bottom up, the colors are blue, purple, pink, and yellow.

Love & Journalism

I’ve just gone through a break-up. It’s 2 a.m. and my computer screen casts light on my face in the darkness of my room. A past lover is posting selfies on Instagram. While he’s living his best life, I’m trying to finish a 2,000-word feature for the Review. I’m grappling with heartache and asking myself if any of it was real. Did he care at all? Staring at the blank screen, I wonder why heartbreak always hits hardest when you have a deadline.
Blue poster with white text written saying "How come know-it-alls don't know how annoying they are?"

No Explanation Needed

Explainers simplify complex topics so you can feel like the smartest person…

The Magazine Rack Invasion

“The last time I flew, I was really disappointed at what I was seeing in terms of what the options were,” says Chris Radley, executive director of the national trade organization Magazines Canada.

Alarmist, Inaccurate, Transphobic

On a rainy evening in November 2024, the Black Sheep pub in Toronto’s Liberty Village was alive with a warm energy. The space buzzed with laughter and chatter as guests showed up to attend the launch party for the sixteenth issue of Queer Toronto Literary Magazine (QT). The issue, “Dream State,” was dedicated to celebrating trans and non-binary voices.

Breaking the Unbreakable

The journalism industry is evolving—too bad our rules aren’t keeping pace Journalism…

Shireen’s Pitch

It’s April 2024, and Shireen Ahmed is sitting in her parents’ home in Windsor, Ontario, her hijab draped loosely over her head. It’s a three-hour drive from Ahmed’s own home in Toronto, but these visits with her mother and father would be routine regardless of the distance. It’s a few months before the 2024 Olympics and Paralympics in Paris, for which Ahmed is to write and create video essays as part of CBC’s coverage, on top of her regular column. But a scheduled call with CBC Olympic executive producer Sherali Najak has Ahmed slightly apprehensive.