“In the garden is where I let myself stand, unknowing of answers.”
In Homing: A Quest to Care for Myself and the Earth, Alice Irene Whittaker offers both a memoir and an investigation into climate-healthy living. She weaves together her younger life as a dancer, her struggles with body image and perfectionism, and her family’s move from an apartment in an Ontario city to a cabin in the woods of Quebec. It was there that I had the privilege of meeting Alice Irene, her husband Nik, and their family—core elements of her story. Over time, I followed the development of her book, heard her speak in her various environmental leadership roles, and attended its launch.
Reading Homing, I learned many things:
Wilderness and Rewilding. The alluring idea of wilderness draws many into rewilding efforts. But Alice Irene reminds us that the concept of wilderness is constructed through the forced removal of Indigenous peoples, excludes racialized people, and perpetuates an imaginary space occupied by whiteness and dominated by men. We imagine wilderness as our true home to forgive ourselves for the problematic modern homes we inhabit.
Regenerative Farming. She explores how farming can become a way to improve the land rather than deplete it—putting carbon back into the soil and working in harmony with nature.
Gift Economies. Learning from the little-known sharing practices of ravens, she engages with local Buy Nothing Groups and the Ottawa Tool Library—models of mutual aid that resist the dominant capitalist paradigm.
Clothing. This is an area I’ve tried to improve myself—buying good quality, ideally local clothes that last long and contain no plastics. Alice Irene goes deeper, meeting and developing relationships with the people who make her clothes, grounding her fibres in connection and care.
Gardening. The garden is a focal point of her story. Planting and relentless weeding challenge her perfectionism. She writes of harvesting vegetables in the rain, pushing herself toward balance and finding nourishment: “In the garden is where I let myself stand, unknowing of answers.”
Ancestors. In a conversation with Chúk Odenigbo, an environmental academic and activist, she learns that first-generation settlers need to form their own bond with the land and strive to become good ancestors for future generations.
Throughout Homing, Alice Irene returns to the story of her family, offering a tender window into their lives. At bedtime, her daughter Owl reflects on a toad they had seen earlier, “He has a sad face.” Sensitive, quiet, and brave, Owl explains, “He was away from his family.” Later, when their big dog Bear dies, I cried with them.
The story, the struggles, and the lessons remind me of The 100-Mile Diet by Alisa Smith and J.B. MacKinnon, a book deserving of its acclaim and impact. Lovingly and carefully written, Homing is meticulously researched and full of practical advice shaped by the pandemic years. It is a guide for anyone seeking to live in deeper relationship with the Earth. I carry away this line from Jane Goodall in The Shadow of Man: “It is the peace of the forest that I carry inside.”
Last Updated on June 25, 2026 | Published: March 15, 2025