Harvard is an institution famed for its dedication to free speech—but at the moment it seems to be taking pointers from recent visitor Wen Jiabao, the premier of China, and the repressive policies his government champions. For the crime of protesting during Wen’s address at Harvard last month, I am currently facing disciplinary action from the Ad Board.

The day of Wen’s talk, I tucked a Tibetan flag into my pantyhose, put my ticket in my pocket and headed over to the Business School. I passed easily through security and found the best seat in the house—behind the VIPs, in front of the press corps and, perhaps most importantly, directly facing the podium. I waited and listened to the introductions and the first 10 minutes of Wen’s speech. And then he said, “I understand my people, and I love my people.” And that was my moment. The Tibetan people are not his people. So I jumped up, pulled out the flag, unfurled it, heard the audience gasp and shouted, “Tibet belongs to the Tibetan people. We will never stop fighting. I am a voice for those inside Tibet. Free Tibet!”

At this point, the director of the Asia Center, Dwight Perkins, ran to the microphone telling me my behavior was not allowed and asking me to sit down. While the women sitting next to me ripped the flag out of my hand and almost tore my shirt off, and while the police arrived at the end of my row, I replied that, “People in Tibet cannot speak, so we must speak for them.” I then left the auditorium, and the police informed me that, while I would not face legal consequences, a report would be submitted to the Ad Board.I stood up because I couldn’t give up a chance to talk to Wen face-to-face about his government’s harsh, brutally repressive treatment of Tibet since China invaded in 1949. In the past few years, China has begun hinting at interest in a “quiet dialogue,” even receiving a delegation representing the Dalai Lama, leader of the Tibetan people, six months ago. But all too often, it seems that quiet dialogue is ultimately a tool for ignoring Tibet and hoping that the world will follow suit. The polite road may be to participate in dialogue, but when dialogue is a superficial concession used to skirt the issue, the quiet dialogue must become louder.

Wen must have hoped Tibet would not come up at Harvard. He did not mention it in his talk, and none of the questions asked touched on Tibet or human rights. But when there is horrible pain and suffering in the world, it is our duty to shove that again and again before the eyes of those who could help, but instead ignore. And so I brought a Tibetan flag with me—a symbol that is banned in China, just to remind Wen that it exists, that it represents the history and hopes of 6 million people inside Tibet and over 130,000 outside who have had to flee their homeland. Wen said in his talk that he really likes young people. I believe him—he seemed a thoughtful man who genuinely cares about his country and its people. But I would ask him to go to Tibet and talk to the Tibetan youth there. Ask them their thoughts on being denied an education in their native language, on being denied the practice of their own religion, on being denied the opportunity to speak their hearts and minds freely. Maybe he should talk to the 12-year-old girl reportedly arrested a few years ago after she told her schoolteacher she was “Tibetan.” Wen may also be interested to hear young Tibetans’ thoughts on futureless lives—why are all the jobs in their country given to Chinese immigrants? Why do Chinese officials turn their backs on rampant prostitution? Moreover, why do Tibetan parents routinely spend their life savings to send five- and six-year-olds over the Himalayas alone on foot, facing capture, death, limbs lost to frostbite, and lives without their parents? Just two months ago, the United Nations High Commission on Refugees estimated that each year nearly 1,000 children flee Tibet. Perhaps Wen would be interested in the forced abortion and sterilization teams that travel the countryside and in the stories of the women who die from lack of hygiene following such procedures. I would encourage Wen to talk to the youth of Tibet, but then, I doubt they could speak freely. A friend from China told me recently, “If you were in China, you would be expelled by now.” I would add that I would most likely be in prison, too, feeling my guards’ blows.

I stood up with my Tibetan flag because I am in a country with freedom of speech and Harvard handed me a ticket. It would have been shameful for me to remain silent. Genocide is genocide, and bloody invasion is not “peaceful liberation.” It is time to start calling a spade a spade, and I have no regrets. Bring on the Ad Board!

Meghan C. Howard is a Sanskrit concentrator in Quincy House. She is the co-president of Harvard Students for a Free Tibet.