My heart glowed and hurt all at the same time

This past Friday saw the opening of the Winter Olympics here in Canada. I must say it was pretty amazing watching the host First Nations welcome the athletes to their traditional territory. Then to see a delegation of First Nation dancers represent their territories from across the country was unbelievable. All in all it was so powerful to see our cultures finally put on such a world stage. Unfortunately there was one nation not present. They did not dance, drum, or sing. They did not stand on the sideline to cheer on the other First Nations, or the athletes. They did not rise for the playing of the National anthem, nor did they turn to see the lighting of the torch. By the beginning of the 19th century, the Beothuk of Newfoundland were reduced from a thriving, vibrant culture, to a small refugee population in their own territory, just barely surviving on what little they could find in the interior of Newfoundland. A forced isolation, being driven into the interior of the province over a couple hundred years created a pattern that was impossible to break. There were a few very minor attempts over the 18th century to establish contact, but it was too late. In 1829, the last surviving Beothuk woman died. Her name was Shanawdithit. Success in one place, where as we all saw at the opening ceremonies, thankfully, persistent failure in the rest of the country. If only Shanawdithit's descendants could have danced as well.