Engaging with History: A Scene from Beth Piatote's *Antíkoni*

The following text is an excerpt from Beyond and Before: The Land’s Original Storytellers, spotlighting works by Native theatre artists that originally appeared in our Summer 2026 issue. To access the original print version, click here.

In Antíkoni, the stage is set within the confines of a museum. Here, Kreon has ascended to the director's position, showcasing a setting that speaks to the weight of history and cultural touchstones. The narrative unfolds as a chorus of Aunties share Nez Perce tales of wisdom and mischief, framing a pivotal moment between sisters Ismene and Antíkoni. They engage in a heated discussion about how to respond to Kreon's controversial acquisition of the Cayuse brothers' remains, exploring the complexities of family loyalty against the backdrop of ancestral unrest.

ACT TWO/Scene 1

As the spotlight finds the crate, ANTÍKONI rushes toward it, pulling a crowbar from her yoga mat.

While handling the crate, she accidentally cuts her hand, drawing it to her mouth to taste the blood.

ISMENE enters.

ISMENE

The rush of urgency brought me here, Néne’. What’s the matter?

ANTÍKONI

An exposed grave—come and behold.

As ANTÍKONI struggles with the crate, ISMENE voices her concern.

ISMENE

We shouldn’t be here. Our Uncle forbids it.

ANTÍKONI

What are you, a child? Why cower before him, who holds no power over us?

ISMENE

He’s got enough authority, believe me.

He can summon the guards, leading to our capture.

Then we'll be at the mercy of a law that seems to tighten its grip daily.

Let’s not forget: Kreon is our uncle; respect is due.

ANTÍKONI

Our blood ties us, but our hearts diverge.

ISMENE

Is your heart the one that bleeds?

ANTÍKONI continues to pry open the crate.

ANTÍKONI

Gaze inside this crate, and you’ll understand.

ISMENE

No, I can’t look—don’t disturb the peace—

If not for you, I would have never come.

ANTÍKONI

Then know this: I've come to rescue them, to bring them home.

ISMENE

You can't! It must go through the proper channels.

ANTÍKONI

Proper channels? NAGPRA1 won’t save them or us. Its reliability is questionable.

ISMENE

Be cautious. All in good time, the tide will shift.

ANTÍKONI

The moon controls the tides; it’s not the other way around.

You don't dispute that law, do you?

ISMENE

Antíkoni, there’s a lawful way to achieve this, not by your hand.

Remember what was sacrificed so long ago when the Ancient One was surrounded? A price was paid then.

Someone tried to act as you do, and the consequences were dire—for him and our people.

No one could sing for him after. Our losses spun out like blood from a wound.

ANTÍKONI

And what is loss, if not this life we lead?

Is it not a loss to watch our ancestors become mere property?

To have their identities stripped away and reduced to numbers?

To witness them sold off and left in tatters?

What cruel system this is, reducing our kin to things.

(Points at crate) Look! Show me you’re brave enough to see.

(ISMENE turns away.)

I thought so. You can't face it.

ISMENE

Néne’, please don’t pressure me. I see it all too well.

This is a curse we were born into.

Recall: our father took his own life, and our mother succumbed to illness.

Both were unable to bear the weight of their own existence.

Our ancestors were subjected to boarding schools,

abused and tormented by cruel hands.

Our great grandparents endured wars and then imprisonments,

in places like Leavenworth and the Hot Place—

confinement for children, elders, and all.

Many in our lineage were massacred.

Surely, it's clear how little value they place on our lives.

If we defy their laws, we risk becoming examples.

As women, we have more at stake: the very essence of life, our blood.

They’ve taken children away and sterilized mothers.

These stories echo through our history.

Bear this in mind, Néne’: their might surpasses ours here.

We can only live under their captivity.

Yet we can determine how to navigate it.

ANTÍKONI

How do we live with it?

Ayi, I see no way to endure this—for now or eternity.

ISMENE

My sister, our lifetimes are brief while this struggle is everlasting.

Did our ancestors persevere only for you to throw your life away?

ANTÍKONI

I’d prefer to die with honor than endure life as you do—though you wear your chains with grace.

ISMENE

Don’t say such things. Don’t wish for death.

ANTÍKONI

I adhere to my Ancestors' cause.

ISMENE

Néne’, take care. Don't let the past drag you from here.

Leave them be, in the Shadowlands.

Stay among the living, those who cherish you.

ANTÍKONI

How can you profess love when you abandon me to this struggle alone?

To refuse to stand by my side in heart or deed?

ISMENE

I can’t defy the law.

ANTÍKONI

Defy what? Their unjust law?

We aren’t bound by a law that strips us of our humanity.

We belong to eternal truths, to the rhythms of the Earth, rooted in our tamalwit, from the dawn of time to its twilight.

ISMENE

It is life that fuels tamalwit! Our primary duty remains: to live.

To live well! 

Spend your life on those who will come, not on those who have departed.

ANTÍKONI

Ayi, I cannot forsake them.

ISMENE

But you propose to go against our uncle? The one who raised and cared for you?

It seems you value the dead more than the living.

ANTÍKONI

This isn’t a binary choice; they are intertwined.

The harm done to the dead resonates through the living, every time.

When you turn your back on them, you turn it on me, too.

ISMENE

Stop! You’re tearing my spirit apart!

Both sisters exit, leaving the audience in contemplation of twilight/NIGHT SKY.

Beth Piatote is a celebrated Nez Perce playwright, poet, and scholar whose works include Antíkoni, which made its debut in Los Angeles with Native Voices in November 2024 and also had a production in Hillsboro, Oregon, in June. An accomplished author, Piatote has been published in various journals and anthologies. She currently serves as an associate professor at the University of California, Berkeley.