In fifth grade or so, I had to do an oral report after reading a book about Squanto, a famous Native American who helped the Plymouth pilgrims through their first winter and taught them the ways of maize cultivation. I wore a vest or put some feathers around my head or something, and stood in front of the class with an index card. I spoke in a racially insensitive, stereotypical, "How! Me Squanto!" type accent, explaining the story of the brave and benevolent Squanto. And I got overly confident and tossed my index card to the floor, and later had to pick it up. I remember saying, "Indian look cue card." It's okay, guys, it was a different time. We knew not what we did.