Why We’re Starting Pyburn Farm in 2027 (With No Experience and at Almost 40)

Most people don’t wake up one day, look at their lives—careers, responsibilities, routines—and decide, “You know what? Let’s start a farm.”

We did.

Not because it was easy. Not because we were ready. And definitely not because we had experience.

We’re starting Pyburn Farm in 2027 because sometimes life doesn’t just invite you into a new chapter—it nudges you, challenges you, and occasionally… pushes you into it.

It Started With the Land

Our story didn’t begin with a business plan or a romantic vision of farm life. It started with something much more personal: our family’s land.

When we learned that our aunt had rented out our land to a local farmer without our permission, we had a decision to make. We could let things continue as they were—or we could step in and take ownership of what had always been part of our family’s story.

We chose ownership.

Not just of the land, but of the responsibility, the opportunity, and the legacy tied to it.

Honoring Four Generations Before Us

We are not the first in our family to work the land. In fact, we come from a line of farmers—four generations deep.

But like many families, that connection faded over time. Life moved in different directions. Careers took priority. The land became something we had, not something we used.

Starting Pyburn Farm is our way of reconnecting with that history.

It’s about honoring the hands that came before us—the ones who planted, harvested, built, and sustained. It’s about acknowledging that what we’re building today didn’t start with us.

We’re just picking the story back up.

From Boots to Suits to Soil

On paper, this probably doesn’t make sense.

One of us is a practicing attorney and Army veteran. The other is a real estate professional. Our lives are structured, fast-paced, and rooted in entirely different industries.

Farming? That’s new territory.

We don’t come into this as experts. We come as students.

And honestly, that’s part of the point.

We’re learning how to raise livestock—chickens, ducks, pigs, and sheep—while also building out spaces to grow fruits, vegetables, and herbs. We’re asking questions, making plans, and preparing to make mistakes.

A lot of them.

But we’re committed to learning, to doing the work, and to building something real from the ground up.

Representation Matters

There’s another layer to this journey that we don’t take lightly.

As African Americans stepping into agriculture, we understand the importance of representation in this space. Farming is deeply tied to our history—both in ways that are painful and in ways that are powerful.

Choosing to farm today is, in its own way, an act of reclaiming.

It’s about ownership. It’s about presence. It’s about showing that we belong in this space—not just historically, but right now and into the future.

We want our farm to reflect that. Not just in what we produce, but in what we represent.

Building Something Our Children Can Stand On

At the center of all of this is legacy.

We’re not just building a farm for 2027—we’re building something that lasts beyond us.

Something our children can see, touch, and be proud of.

Something that teaches them:

• The value of land

• The importance of hard work

• The meaning of ownership

• And the power of creating something for yourself and your family

We want them to grow up knowing where their food comes from—but also where they come from.

Why Now?

Why start a farm with no experience?

Why take this on at almost 40?

Because there’s no perfect time to start something meaningful.

Because waiting until you feel “ready” often means never starting at all.

And because some opportunities aren’t really opportunities—they’re responsibilities.

This land is ours.

This story is ours.

And now, this farm will be ours too.

The Beginning of Pyburn Farm

We don’t have it all figured out.

We’re still learning. Still planning. Still preparing for what’s ahead.

But we’re committed.

To the land.
To our family.
To the legacy we’re building.

Pyburn Farm isn’t just a project—it’s a return, a reset, and a step forward all at once.

And this is only the beginning.

We’re Two Peas in a Py—figuring it out one step at a time.