This is the first in a multiple-part series of pieces on feminism and gender equality. Today’s piece addresses the problem. Up next is Part 2, which addresses the solution component.

There is that excitement that comes with the anticipation of something awesome and accessible – the thing we look forward to in our heads because, well, we all need our regular fix of metaphorical sunshine. It may be anticipation of your morning macchiato, the next Leo film, summer, the 2020 elections. Choose your own adventure.

Earlier this year, I found myself in this state, because Chimamanda Ngozie Adichie would soon release a new book.

As soon as I’d heard, I was on Amazon for my copy of Dear Ijeawele, or A Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions, like a person with a bad shopping habit on Black Friday. And when I had the book in my hands, I read it in one sitting. Then I encouraged my husband to read it, probably too enthusiastically. He is a great sport. He did read it, and even debriefed with me, with great patience, as I looked through the pages I’d dog-eared and passages I’d underlined for discussion.

I recently lent the book to a friend. We had coffee, and she returned it. Her takeaway: she didn’t really see the need for it. To be fair, I had built-up the book in advance, and I probably made it sound life changing and magical – and let’s be real, only Harry Potter fits into that category. But her fundamental feeling about it was that the message was too obvious, because of course girls and boys should be raised the same, of course men and women are equal.

But here’s the thing: we always need another feminist manifesto. (In particular if coming from Adichie, whose grounded writing and enlightened ideas are an intellectual, philosophical, and cultural gift to the masses).

There are some things we unequivocally do not need more of. By way of example: natural disasters in 2017 and in general, hipster glasses, dietary restrictions, Jason Bourne movies.

I will always vote for the next feminist manifesto.

Still, I can see where the “well of course” reaction comes from. The book’s message, indeed, is a universal one that asserts the “[…] idea of ‘gender roles’ is absolute nonsense.” I can see how the universality of the message can make it seem overly obvious.

And yet, we have a problem. Our society is not one of gender equality. When I say “our,” I mean Western society, and to be more specific, US society. I write from this perspective because it’s the one I know best, but it’s certainly not universal. Our society aspires in a fragmented and inconsistent way towards gender equality, yet we are quick to want to say “we live in a world where boys and girls are treated the same.” It seems, to me, that we are in that halfway house between deciding it’s time to lose weight and actually committing to a diet plan.

My hope in writing this piece is to encourage constructive dialogue about where we are as a society, where we might want to get, and how we can go about getting there. And as we all know or have at least heard, the first step is admitting there’s a problem. We are gender-equal only in aspiration, and we could do a significantly better job in our follow-through.

The problem can be seen at the top. Look at our leadership. Political leanings aside, because feminists can come in all political proclivities.

We have elected into the Office of President of the United States a man who, while campaigning, was exposed in his belief that “you can do anything” to women, inclusive of genital groping. I note I have only very mildly summarized the offensive language in question, because it is literally embarrassing to write in more detail about Donald Trump’s hot mic incident, and because I also choose to not dignify his comments by posting them on my site. I will simply say that the boorish and degrading behavior that was caught on camera cannot be deemed that of a civilized being. And yet, we elected him. (America, do we have a self-esteem problem?)

I can remember where I was when I heard the news as it just broke. I was on the dance floor at the wedding of dear friends in Atlanta, jamming to an phenomenal cover of DJ Khaled and Ludacris. All I do is win, win win no matter what. Hands in the air, up down up down. I bumped into a friend in my arm-waving. He gave me the scoop. My jaw literally dropped, and I stopped dancing. The music was too loud to exchange many words, but I’m pretty sure my facial expression said “WTF?!??”

The next morning, I read the news and then watched the news. I was shocked by some of the political spin I heard. ‘Oh, just bravado locker room banter from long ago.’

Again, I address this from a politically neutral place. I don’t care where your political allegiances are, there is no excuse for language, or behavior, of any kind, that degrades another human being. Much less from someone hoping to lead people. I see no redemption here. Not in that women have been objectified for their bodies for basically the entirety of time, not in that we have coined the phrase ‘locker room banter’ as a somehow socially acceptable way of exhibiting base behavior (as if the act in the privacy of a group of bros makes it acceptable), not in that the event happened ‘in the past.’

Surely, the behavior in question is not befitting of a leader of any kind. Full stop. And still: we elected him.

There are other examples of places in which there is work to be done, and I want to give them, because the nature of this conversation should transcend politics.

See the entertainment industry. Currently in the eye of the storm is Harvey Weinstein. Angelina and Gwyneth have spoken out, and now there is dialogue. It is not just on the producer end. We are innocent until proven guilty, however, I note that Bill Cosby is working his way through court on multiple, separate allegations of sexual assault that span, literally, decades.

See the media. Bill O’Reilly was fired from Fox News this April, Roger Ailes was sacked as the company’s chairman last year.

See tech. Silicon Valley’s storm of sexual harassment scandals have also seen the spotlight this year, with the problem coming equally from the top (see Uber) and as well as from investors (see implicated VCs). This is making news now, but the problem is not a new one. Harvard Business Magazine published an article almost a decade ago about the science, engineering and technology industries experiencing a female brain drain, in part, due to “hostile macho cultures.” That was 2008.

I could go on. See the military, where sexual assault is rampant, and according to some reports, increasing. See college campuses, where statistics say that one in five women will be sexually assaulted. Think about it.

Better yet: talk about it. Ask people, and be open-minded about who you speak with. Perspectives from any gender and political inclination (or other inclination) are valuable. And if you are so inclined to talk about your own experiences, do so. I’ve been moved by the “Me Too” campaign. A shared experience of any type is an opportunity to bring new perspectives into the conversation, and that can only bring richness to our social fabric.

Here is my Me Too. It seems trivial in the grand scheme of things, but it occurs to me it is worth sharing. The systemic silencing of people and the institutionalization of an insidious problem rely on individuals assuming an experience is not worth sharing. So in the spirit of doing so:

I was interning in a Big Job in a Big City and it promised me a Big Future. Just before key job offer decisions were made, one of the decision makers in question found himself slightly inebriated with the cohort of ‘summer associates’ at a night club in Chelsea. That this married old dude would join the group of associates 20 years his junior was odd, but whatever. Then it went from weird to inappropriate, as he spoke loudly and slowly the way that inebriated people do. We were in a group of associates, but he looked at me and said “You can come visit, we should go to Carnival together next year.” Then his hand went to my waist. The music was loud and the place crowded. I made an immediate exit, which was not difficult.

“Gross,” I told the guy I was dating at the time. And that is all I said. I did not think to make this an issue in the workplace, because I did not need problems getting a job offer.

I look back on this and wish I’d send something to admin. If anything, on the day that I quit without plans of looking back.

So talk to the people you know about your Me Toos, or their Me Toos. I suspect these conversations will confirm: we need all the feminist manifestos we can get.

I was recently hosted by one of the most delightful couples I know, in their new home, where I got to spend time with them and their new baby daughter. The baby just got her first two teeth. She is, of course, entirely oblivious to all of this brouhaha, as well she should be. And as well she should remain.

That’s who the feminist manifestos are for.