When the new school year started, the history teacher was very excited because there were three Native American boys in her class.

She was beside herself with excitement. She asked the first boy to stand up and tell the class what tribe he is from and how he knows this.

The little boy stands up and proudly throws out his chest. He takes his fist and hits his chest, and says in a booming voice “I am a Cherokee. My father and I walked for many moons and one day my father said ‘Son, you see all this land. This is Cherokee land.’ So, I know I am a Cherokee.”

The teacher then asks the next boy to stand up and tell the class what tribe he is from and how he knows this. The little boy stands up and proudly throws out his chest. He takes his fist and hits his chest and says in a booming voice “I am a Comanche. My father and I walked for many moons and one day my father said ‘Son, you see all this land. This is Comanche land.’ So, I know I am a Comanche.”

The teacher then asks the last boy to stand up and tell the class what tribe he is from and how he knows this. The little boy stands up and proudly throws out his chest. He takes his fist and hits his chest, and says in a booming voice “I am a Fuckawee.” The teacher looks dumb founded “I don’t think there is any such tribe as the Fuckawee.” The boy explains “My father and I walked for many days and many nights. We ran out of water, but we kept walking. With no rest, we were getting weary. Finally, one day, my father stopped in his tracks, he shielded the sun from his eyes to look around, and finally he said ‘Hmm, where the Fuckawee?'”

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