Last week, at Ad Age’s A-List and Creativity Awards Gala in New York, Wieden+Kennedy Portland copywriter Titania Tran took the stage to accept this year’s honor for Creative of the Year. The jury bestowed the award for her work on the gut-wrenching “Call It Covid” film addressing the violent, racist attacks on individuals of Asian descent, as well as her breathtaking ad for HP. At the ceremony, once again she stunned the crowd with her powerful words. She recounted her experience as the child of Vietnamese refugees, growing up among a community of immigrants whose shared language was “broken English,” which ultimately proved to be a powerful tool for her as a writer today.

You can watch Tran’s full speech, and read more of her thoughts on “broken English” below. 

I collect words. I can never have enough of them. As a daughter of Vietnamese refugees, growing up in a community with refugees, immigrants, and the children of both—not having enough was a common theme in our lives. You’d think words are free. Still, we didn’t have enough of them.

So I’d look for them. I’d try to save as many as I could find. I’d read them, listen for them, repeat them to myself. I’d write them down. Memorize them. I’d hold on to them for as long as I could, and carry them with me. I didn’t want to forget them. I didn’t want to lose this currency I’d found.

I thought, the more words I had, the better. The better I’d be able to ask for what we needed. The better I’d be able to express what we couldn’t afford to give.

Recently though, I find myself doing the opposite. After I write something, I cut it down. I ask myself, “What can I lose?” The shorter, the better. In doing so, I find myself going back to the English I grew up with, and for a long time, was embarrassed of: “broken English.” Simple words. Direct. Short, fragmented sentences. Grammar, an afterthought. As much meaning, packed into as few words as possible. All the qualities that made me feel less than, were now the qualities that produced my strongest pieces of writing.

I’ve come to understand that “broken English,” between two people speaking different languages, is in my experience the most honest, intentional, and pure form of verbal communication. It’s communicating, without any artifice or pretense. It’s showing up exactly as you are. Exposing all your faults. Leading with everything you don’t know. It’s being hyper aware of who you’re speaking to. You ask yourself what words you share in common. What words hold the same meaning? You care less about what you have to say, and more about what they understand. With “broken English,” the goal isn’t to impress, but to understand each other.

I will always feel like I don’t have enough words. I’m okay with that. I’ll always have broken English.