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Indonesian Riots of 1997: Like a phoenix, a living spirit and hope arises from the ashes
Once, I was innocent. Before the riots, I never knew anything but kindness, a sense of brotherhood, and a desire for peace. Then my world was suddenly and abruptly shattered in 1997, the year in which my nation of Indonesia was gripped with a series of seismic shocks, deadly riots that temporarily destroyed my belief in human good.
I had never contemplated the potential for such brutality and violence within the human soul. For the first time I saw the ability of people to hate one another for no reason. I saw people take advantage of the politically unstable political situation, gleefully ransacking the city, forgetting even why they were rioting in the first place, and simply delighting in getting lost in the madness of the crowds. The riots left a scar upon my heart that has never entirely healed.
But out of the ashes and hurt, I try to draw strength and insight. I have tried to make the memories of the riots a positive motivating force in my life, rather than to embitter me. I cannot change the past and must accept what has happened in the past, and learn how to change others from my experience, rather than to mirror the hate I saw in my own life. Turning negative energy into something positive and productive is the challenge for everyone who lived through that time.
Indonesia today still struggles with the sad legacy of the riots. But I am not bitter -- it is easy to use suffering as an excuse for bitterness. Instead, I must affirm my power as a human being to rise above violence, riots, murder and rape, although I will never forget that dreadful piece of history for the rest of my life.
My perspective has come full circle since those events. I no longer see burning buildings and screaming neighbors in my memory. Instead, I see the spirit of the phoenix embodied in my country and the spirits of my countrymen and women rising from the ashes. I see a better world, filed with opportunities as limitless as the ability of people to forgive, if not to forget.
No longer were all of my neighbors truly my neighbors. I felt like I had to look over my shoulder constantly. It was not only the extreme violence that had affected my outlook but also the rapidity with which the situation devolved to that violence. In hindsight, the events instilled fear that before then I never thought possible to have. The riots showed me the ugly side of humanity. I
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