In middle school, I believed (in a way that seems laughably naïve now) that the United States numbered among the “good guys” of the world. (I was 13 when 9/11 happened.) It’s clear now that this isn’t the case — in fact, that it’s only ever occasionally been the case — and so I’ve been increasingly turning to narratives from other countries to broaden my perspective.

In Secrets of the Sprakkar: Iceland’s Extraordinary Women and How They Are Changing the World, author and former first lady of Iceland Eliza Reid enumerates the ways her adopted country has been striving toward, and sometimes achieving, gender parity. “Study after study, time after time, proves that the more gender-equal a society is, the happier, longer living, and more economically prosperous it is for all its citizens,” she notes.

Although Reid acknowledges that her perspective is only one of many and that Iceland still has great strides to make (what country doesn’t?), she offers her large family as an example of success.

“Had I stayed in Canada, I doubt I would have been so prolific in offspring. But in Iceland, somehow, it just seemed so easy to have a child — and then another, and another, and another.” She cites “comprehensive, midwife-led prenatal care [that] is free of charge”; “several months of [paid] parental leave”; and heavily subsidized childcare:

“With these supportive systems in place, we didn’t need to prioritize financial considerations when deciding the size of our family.”

As a person living in a country where even the most basic healthcare costs can be prohibitive, I found this to be a revelation. While Reid paid approximately $5 for her first (and only) prenatal visit with a doctor, “The [subsequent] regular visits with midwives…are free of charge, as is everything directly related to pregnancy and childbirth, the costs being covered through my taxes, part of which goes to Iceland’s universal healthcare system.”

In America, I often hear money mentioned as the most salient factor in deciding family size; how heartening to learn of a more comprehensive support model. And this support isn’t limited to a family’s home life, either: Reid describes how, a few months after moving to Iceland for love and taking a new job there, she witnessed a CEO breastfeeding her baby while chairing a board meeting:

“In this testosterone-laden environment, no one batted an eye, no one made a ‘joke,’ and at least one male board member later bounced the wee one on his lap while [the CEO] addressed a point on the agenda.”

It’s difficult to imagine a similar scenario here, where the trend seems to be toward shoving women back into the kitchen.

Reid is clear about the fact that not everything in Iceland is coming up roses, however. As an immigrant herself, she notes:

“There is no cookie-cutter immigrant experience. For every woman like me who moves here with a built-in network of local in-laws and finds a job related to her education, there is another who is exploited, working for a pittance in unsafe conditions because she hasn’t been made aware of her labor rights in this country.”

Similarly, a 2018 scandal — in which six male members of Iceland’s parliament were recorded insulting and demeaning their female colleagues while drinking at a local bar — provoked public outrage but no significant long-term consequences. While two of the men were kicked out of their party’s caucus, all remained members of parliament at the time of the book’s writing. This is a good reminder that while perfection may not be achievable, striving for better always is.

Living in the U.S., where things are rapidly going downhill, it’s hard for me to see Iceland as anything but an idyllic bastion of gender parity, despite Reid’s tempering statements. If the sprakkar of Iceland can make such strides, perhaps there’s hope for the rest of us, too.

Mariko Hewer is a freelance editor and writer, as well as a nursery-school teacher. She is passionate about good books, good food, and good company.