OWEN WATSON, 12, CANADA
Dressed in a puffy parka made by his mom and with cellphone in hand, Owen Watson gives a tour of his town, Iqaluit, in the far-north Canadian territory of Nunavut. There’s still snow on the ground in May, though the days are getting longer in this place known for its spectacular views of the northern lights.
“That light blue place is the school that I used to go to,” 12-year-old Owen says of the shuttered structure behind him. Then he turns to a playground. “It’s not supposed to be played with right now.”
Surrounded by rivers, lakes and the ocean, filled with Arctic char, his dad, Aaron Watson, says the name of their town means “fishes” in Inuktitut, the language spoken by this region’s Inuit people, which includes Owen and his mom and sister. Dad is originally from Stratford, Ontario, and works in the tourism industry in Nunavut.
Under nationwide shutdown, Owen has kept busy with packets of work from his teachers. He rides his bike around the even-quieter-than-usual town – and tries not to worry too much.
His dad observes how much Owen has been watching news about the coronavirus and wonders if they’re raising a future scientist.
So far, there have been no documented cases of the coronavirus in the town of about 8,000 people, many of whom work for the federal government and the city. When flights are running, they can fly to the Canadian capital, Ottawa, in three hours.
So young Owen thinks it’s only a matter of time before the virus arrives. “If it gets here,” he says, “I’ll be more afraid.”
He waits and watches. The sun sets to the west, as clouds reflect soft shades of pink and purple. It’s a lot for a boy to think about.