Whole Village is a self-described ‘intentional community’; an ecovillage and bio-dynamic farm founded in response to a loss of genuine community in our society, increased urbanization of rural areas, and impoverishment of farmland.

I first visited Whole Village in April of 2007 after being introduced to the concept of sustainable communities by a geography professor. The idea of documenting an isolated and quasi-autonomous community appealed to not only because of the imagery I knew must exist in such a setting, but also because, like many young Canadians, I had long ago been swept up in the moderate currents of an environmental movement. I became intrigued by the idea of “returning to the land” or living off the grid, if only it meant not sacrificing the conveniences I was born accustomed to. Salt & Earth is the result of my year-long relationship with Whole Village, during which I lived on the farm in installations, working the land to earn my keep while creating this documentary of the community.

On the surface, Whole Village has created a solution to the frustrations faced by environmentally conscious urbanites. Located on a 200-acre tract of land just an hour north of Toronto’s bustling city centre, the community is made up of thirty educators, professionals, and farmers living in a 15,000 square-foot co-operative residence. In contrast with the tarpaper shack and haphazard “free love” stereotypes associated with community movements of the 1960’s, Whole Village is highly organized and surprisingly modern. The farm’s main residence set a zoning precedent with a ‘green’ design that prioritizes personal space while preserving communal eating and recreation areas, and the membership structure that helped administer the group’s farm purchase now ensures that the community is socially and financially accountable. The life being lived on the farm is one that blends traditional family values with modern ecological practices, and the result is what one member describes as being more like a “condo on a farm” than a contemporary commune.

While the example being set by Whole Village is one that proves that the environmental and social concerns that are so prevalent today can in fact be put into practice, it is not without its drawbacks. If the elder generation has shown that it is forward-thinking and environmentally progressive, the community’s youth struggles with the same stigmas faced by the ‘flower children’ of the 60’s and 70’s. Home-schooled and largely isolated from their peers, the children are at risk of not being taken seriously should the values of their parents take root. A further challenge is the financial burden placed upon those middle-aged members who do not have the benefit of a lifetime of equity with which to put their values into practice. The pressures of contributing to community life in addition to full-time employment off-property have led a number of members to engage in the bitter and heavily bureaucratic process of leaving their homes on the farm behind.

Ninety percent of ecovillages and intentional communities don’t make it past the planning stage, or fail within the first year, and it is easy to see why: environmental ideals come in a variety of strengths and focuses, and the shared goals that initially unite members can later widen the rifts between them. While Whole Village has moved steadily towards its goal of self-sufficiency since its founding just a few years ago, the success of the community rests equally on achieving both social and environmental sustainability.