How Students Are Turning Class Projects into Real Business Ventures
In high school, I often felt like projects were just something to get through. Completing them usually meant checking off a box on my to-do list, handing them in to my teacher and then moving on to the next assignment. It was easy to see them just as assignments with deadlines rather than opportunities for something bigger. But when I got to university, that perspective started to shift. One course changed how I saw schoolwork: my thesis course. Unlike anything I’d done before, this course challenged me to identify a real, tangible problem and use research as a tool to explore possible solutions. It wasn’t about just finishing an assignment; it was about creating something meaningful that could have an impact beyond the classroom. That experience made me realize that academic work can be the starting point for real change—if students are given the right support and space to take their ideas further. For many students, the feeling that a class project may be more than just an assignment can be the start of something unexpected. I recently had the chance to speak with a former student who followed that feeling, turning an idea sparked in the classroom into a real venture that made a difference. Their journey wasn’t always easy; it took persistence, creativity and support. Stories like theirs highlight a bigger truth: while great ideas can come from anywhere, not all students have the same access to resources or guidance to help them grow. That’s why educators like Dr. Barbara Crow have been working to break down those barriers and build pathways that empower every student to bring their ideas to life. Innovation for Every Student When Dr. Barbara Crow became Dean of the Faculty of Arts and Science at Queen’s University in Kingston, Ont., she noticed a disconnect: innovation and entrepreneurship were often siloed in STEM and business faculties, leaving arts and science students out of the conversation. “There was no pathway for Arts and Science students to get involved in innovation,” she explained. “But the skills needed to turn ideas into action, that’s something every student should have access to.” With that in mind, Dr. Crow began working with the Queen’s music department and other campus partners to reframe innovation not as a tech-only space, but as a methodological approach, a process that could apply just as much to poetry and social change as to engineering and product design. Innovation, she emphasized, is about translating ideas into impact. Her early conversations with the director of the Dunin-Deshpande Queen’s Innovation Centre sparked a pivotal question: What would it take to bring Arts and Science students into the fold and support them meaningfully? The result was the creation of the Dean’s Changemaker Challenge, a program that brings alumni, faculty and interdisciplinary mentors together to support students in building real-world projects based on their values, lived experiences and coursework. Crafting Solutions That Resonate for Decades Dr. Crow admits the early iterations of the program weren’t perfect. The first calls for participants were too open-ended, and only a few students showed up. “They needed a project, something tangible to build from,” she said. In one early initiative, students worked with renowned photographer Edward Burtynsky, known for his environmental work and Order of Canada recognition, to conceptualize the story of the whale through art, writing and learning. “We worked on it for two years. It was a deeply collaborative, evolving process,” she said. “Ten years from now, students will look back and say, ‘Wow, we did that.’” The program gradually brought in more expertise, pairing undergraduate teams with graduate students and community leaders who could guide the implementation side of their ideas. As students became more engaged, the projects evolved, rooted increasingly in personal passion and lived experience. When Education Meets Purpose One of the last projects Dr. Crow helped oversee before going on leave involved a group of undergraduate students proposing a compulsory mental health course for incoming Queen’s students. Working alongside Dr. Meghan Norris, known for her research at the intersection of pedagogy and student well-being, the team collaborated with campus mental health providers to ensure the course would complement existing academic supports. Some faculty initially worried that a required mental health course might detract from their own curriculum. But the students flipped that narrative, saying, “Our course is going to make students better in your course,” emphasizing that prioritizing mental well-being doesn’t take away from academic performance; it enhances it. It wasn’t just theory. The challenge inspired a range of tangible solutions: children’s books on mental health, fridge-tagging systems to improve food access and even innovations like “Telechargers,” a proposal to create mobile device charging stations at gas stations for long-haul travelers and underserved communities. For Dr. Crow, these moments reflect what the Changemaker Challenge is truly about: using education not just to absorb information, but to act on it, creatively, inclusively and with purpose. When the Lived Experiences of Students Drive Business What’s remarkable about student entrepreneurs is how personal their ventures are. These aren’t just ideas pulled out of thin air; they’re often born from lived experience, empathy and a genuine desire to help their communities. Take Emily Talas, for example. Growing up as a first‑generation Canadian in an immigrant household, conversations about school and mental health weren’t always simple, not because her family lacked understanding, but because it was new for all of them. “Everything was new, for them and for me,” she explained. At just 14, when she started experiencing anxiety, her family came together to learn, adapt and support one another. It was a collective journey, rooted in resilience, understanding and a shared commitment to figuring it out as a team. Attending a school where many students were also first-generation Canadians, Emily found herself navigating the mental health system largely on her own. She often thought about how much easier things could’ve been if mental health literacy, such as simple explanations of emotions, anxiety or even just “what you’re feeling and why,”