The Girl Who Grew Up Leading
It’s after school. Tiffany’s in the shop again - feet swinging from a stool that’s just a little too tall, her fingers sorting through a pile of invoices that somehow make more sense once she sorts them. The air smells like oil and cleaner, but everything shines. The floors gleam, the counters sparkle, and even the toolboxes look proud to be there.
Phones ring. Air tools hum in the back of the shop. Her dad’s voice carries from the front counter - calm, confident, explaining a repair in plain English to a customer who clearly trusts him. She listens, soaking in every word. Wayne doesn’t talk down to people. He talks to them. And he always makes space for her to learn. He never treated her like a little girl playing office. He treated her like part of the team. That mattered. Because long before she ever ran a business, Tiffany learned what respect feels like when it’s handed to you with trust instead of hesitation.
She doesn’t realize it yet, but she’s learning what leadership sounds like - calm, clear, and kind.
Being the oldest of four girls, Tiffany learned early that someone had to steer the ship. She was the built-in leader, the one who helped her mom make sure homework got done and shoes were found before school. It wasn’t bossy. It was instinct. Order came easy to her - plans, structure, clarity. If something went sideways, she was already fixing it before anyone asked.
Right and wrong felt simple back then. There was comfort in the rules. If you worked hard and did the right thing, things would fall into place. But leadership, real leadership, has a way of sanding down those edges over time.
Running a business. Raising a family. Managing people. It all teaches you that black and white rarely tell the whole story. Now, she is looking at the grey - the space where listening matters more than proving a point, where grace can carry a team farther than perfection ever could. She’s learned that there isn’t one right way to lead, but there are honest ways - ways that build trust, not fear.
Some people grow into leadership. Tiffany was born with it - shaped by birth order, strengthened by her father’s faith in her, and refined by the work that taught her what real respect sounds like.
The Shop That Built Her
The shop wasn’t just her dad’s work. It was the heartbeat of her childhood.
She remembers the hum of the shop - not as background noise, but as the sound of home. The phone ringing, the air gun popping, her dad’s laugh cutting through it all. The smell of cleaner mixed with metal. The way the day settled once the bays quieted down and the last car rolled out.
While other kids were at home watching cartoons, Tiffany was learning what steady looks like. Work. Service. Pride in a job done right. She learned early that showing up mattered more than titles.
Her dad didn’t preach that lesson; he lived it. He swept floors right alongside his techs. He’d stop what he was doing to explain a repair to a nervous customer, making sure they left with peace of mind, not just a fixed car. And he brought Tiffany right into that rhythm. She still carries it.
When you walk into her shop today, you can feel that same heartbeat - organized, calm, and cared for. It’s not about being spotless. It’s about respect. As Tiffany puts it, “Clean floors, organized space, clear expectations. That’s not perfectionism - that’s respect.” That’s still how she leads. You see it in the little things - how she greets her team in the morning, how she checks in on someone who’s had a rough week, how she notices when the shop feels off before anyone says a word. She doesn’t chase perfection anymore. She builds steady.
Every clean floor, every organized bench, every conversation that ends with a laugh instead of a sigh - it all comes from that same place of respect she learned as a kid watching her dad.
The shop runs well because the people inside it feel seen. That’s not management. That’s belonging. Thats Respect.
The Quiet Kind of Leadership
Tiffany doesn’t lead with volume or spotlight. She leads with steadiness.
When she said, “I don’t see myself as a leader - I just keep showing up for people,” it stopped me. Because that’s exactly what leadership looks like to the people who work beside her. She gets things done. She follows through. She listens. There’s something powerful about someone who doesn’t need to announce their authority to have it. Tiffany runs two companies, sits on the ATRA board, mentors women through AWiA, and still makes time to check in on her team - really check in. A conversation, a look, a quiet word in the middle of a busy day.
She leads the way she was raised - consistent, fair, steady. People trust her because she’s predictable in the best way. Her yes means yes. Her calm stays steady when things get loud. Her presence makes the room feel safe enough for everyone else to lead too. That’s the kind of leadership that lasts.
The Culture She Keeps
Tiffany’s shops aren’t just businesses. They’re proof of what can happen when trust meets hard work.
When her dad, Wayne, brought her fully into the business, he didn’t hand her busywork. He handed her responsibility. The numbers told the story. Profits doubled that first year she came on board. That kind of growth doesn’t happen by chance. It happens when leadership and effort pull in the same direction. They grew so fast they outgrew their space. Together they built a new facility with bigger bays, better flow, and a layout that matched where they were headed instead of where they started.
But for Tiffany, the real pride isn’t in the new building. It’s in the people who fill it. Her employees stay. They build their lives inside that shop. Faces don’t turn over. The culture holds. That’s what she means when she says, “We doubled our profit in the first year Dad brought me into the business, but the real win was the culture we built.” Because what they built wasn’t just a bigger shop. They built stability. They built belief. They built a place people want to stay.
Breaking Through the Old Walls
Even with her success, Tiffany’s journey hasn’t been without friction.
When she first started getting involved with her local ATRA chapter, she walked into rooms full of seasoned men who weren’t quite sure what to do with a woman sitting at the table. It wasn’t hostility - it was habit. The kind of quiet exclusion that happens when a room has looked the same for too long.
Tiffany handled it the same way she handles everything else, steady, prepared, and patient. She’d sit, listen, take notes, and wait for the right moment to speak. And when she did, her words carried weight. Sometimes the room would fall silent, sometimes heads would turn. But every time she showed up, she made that table a little easier for the next woman to sit at. She told me, “I had to walk in knowing I might not be liked for what I said. But they needed to see the other side of the industry, because it’s coming.”
That’s Tiffany. Firm, not forceful. Determined, not defensive. She never demanded space. She earned it.
The Lesson That Landed
Listening to Tiffany talk about balance stopped me in my tracks. She said, “Work hours are work hours. When I leave, that’s family time. It’s the only way to stay whole.” That line stirred something in me.
I’d been feeling a little left out when my partner would take off after work to drive the Malecón alone, maybe grab an ice cream before coming home. I used to take it as distance. But listening to Tiffany, I realized it was something else entirely. He wasn’t pulling away. He was finding quiet.
After spending his day surrounded by people, dealing with tragedies in the ER, that scenic drive is his way to breathe before walking through the door at home. And here I am, working alone most of the day, craving conversation the second he comes home. We were both right. I just needed space to see how important it is. That small insight shifted so much for me. Now, when he takes that drive, I smile instead of feeling left out. I understand. Tiffany’s version of leadership isn’t just about work - it’s about knowing when to be present and when to give space. It’s about respecting that balance looks different for everyone, and that’s what makes it work.
The Legacy Moment
Listening to Tiffany talk about balance reminded me that respect shows up in all kinds of ways - at work, at home, and in how we love the people around us. For her, that lesson started long before she ever ran a shop. It started with a dad who trusted her, who gave her space to lead before she even realized she was doing it. One day, a customer walked in and said, “I’m just here for her.” Wayne grinned, equal parts proud and playful. “Who do you think taught her?” he said. That’s it. No long speech. No big moment. Just a father standing back a little, letting his daughter shine, knowing she’d earned it. That same quiet confidence is what she carries into everything now.
When Maylan and I started looking for someone to help coordinate our Amazing Women in Automotive roundtables, her name came up right away. I called Maylan and asked, “What about Tiffany Scherado?” He didn’t even pause. “She’s the one.” And she was.
She stepped into that role the same way she does everything else - with humility, grace, and the kind of calm that makes everyone else breathe a little easier. Week after week, she held space for women to show up as they were. At first, she thought every roundtable needed a plan. But over time, she realized that the best conversations weren’t structured. They were real. A shop owner struggling with her accountant. Another woman looking for a number to call. Tiffany learned to let the moment lead.
That same steady leadership is what the industry saw when she received the Golden Wrench Award. She told me later it took a while to sink in. She was shocked - not because she didn’t think she’d earned it, but because she never thought about earning anything. In her mind, she was just doing what she always does. Showing up. Helping. Staying steady. But that’s the thing about quiet leadership - everyone else sees it long before you do.
That award wasn’t about one big achievement. It was about every small, consistent act that lifted others. Every woman she’s encouraged. Every shop she’s helped steady. Every late-night call that kept someone from quitting. Tiffany doesn’t just represent women in this industry. She connects us.
What Showing Up Really Means
Tiffany reminds me that leadership isn’t about control - it’s about consistency.
It’s about showing up for your team, your family, and yourself - especially on the ordinary days when no one’s watching. She said, “Growth happens in quiet moments - when you look back and realize you’d handle it differently now.” That stayed with me because it’s how she leads. No noise. No show. Just the steady habit of doing what’s right and doing it again tomorrow.
That’s what I see in Tiffany - a leader who doesn’t need to prove it. She just keeps showing up. And because she does, everyone around her rises a little higher too. Here’s to the quiet leaders. The ones who build strong cultures, raise strong families, and hold the line with grace. The ones who make our automotive industry - and the people in it - better just by being who they are.
With gratitude for women like Tiffany, ~ Birdie
Melissa “Birdie” Patterson brings 29 years of shop-tested experience to her work as an organic marketer and transition strategist for the automotive industry at www.BirdsiSocial.com. She carries forward The Maylan Method - real leadership, clear communication, and culture that lasts.