When I was growing up, particularly during puberty in my teen

Linda Hunt once revealed with striking honesty: "When I was growing up, particularly during puberty in my teen years, I was so miserable because I elicited so much teasing and meanness from my teenage cohorts." In these words lies the painful truth of youth: that the journey through puberty—already a season of turmoil and change—can become even more difficult when one is cast as the target of cruelty. Her confession is not merely personal, but universal, for nearly every soul knows the sting of exclusion and the loneliness of being set apart.

The origin of her pain is tied to her unique appearance and stature. Hunt, who would later become an acclaimed actress and an Academy Award winner, was different in a way that others noticed. In adolescence, difference is too often met not with curiosity or kindness, but with ridicule. Children and teens, still unformed in compassion, may strike out at those who do not fit the mold. Thus, the young Hunt found herself enduring teasing and meanness, learning the heavy lessons of resilience long before the world would celebrate her talents.

History offers many parallels to this experience. Consider Abraham Lincoln, mocked in his youth for his awkward frame, his lanky height, and his rough appearance. Yet the boy who endured ridicule became the man whose words and leadership saved a nation. Or recall Eleanor Roosevelt, who as a young girl was called “ugly” and unwanted, and who grew up feeling unworthy. Yet in time she became one of the most respected figures of the twentieth century, a voice for justice and human dignity. Like Hunt, they carried the wounds of youthful cruelty, and yet those wounds became the foundation of their empathy and strength.

Hunt’s words remind us of the deep vulnerability of adolescence. Puberty is a time when the body changes, the emotions surge, and the soul searches for stability. To endure mockery during such a fragile season is to suffer twice over: once in the confusion of one’s own transformation, and again under the lash of external scorn. And yet, such suffering, though bitter, often produces resilience and compassion, shaping the spirit into something stronger than it would have been without the trial.

The wisdom we may draw is this: do not underestimate the cruelty of words, nor the power they hold over the young. What may seem a joke to one can be a wound to another that lingers for decades. But also, do not underestimate the strength that arises from enduring hardship. Those who have known exclusion often become the fiercest champions of inclusion, the most tender toward the brokenhearted, and the most courageous in pursuing their path despite obstacles.

For us, the lesson is twofold. First, let us teach the young the sacred art of kindness, for kindness in adolescence is a shield that can protect souls during their most vulnerable years. Second, for those who have endured cruelty, let us remind them: you are not defined by the mockery of others, but by the truth of your own spirit. The world may jeer at difference, but history celebrates those who had the courage to be different.

Therefore, children of tomorrow, carry Linda Hunt’s testimony as both warning and encouragement. Do not be the voice that adds to another’s misery; instead, be the hand that lifts. And if you are the one who has been wounded, know that your suffering can be transformed into strength, your loneliness into compassion, your scars into wisdom. For many who were mocked in youth became giants in adulthood, and their greatness was born not despite their pain, but because of it. What once made you the object of ridicule may one day become the very source of your power.