Welcome to My Autumn - Introduction

The Autumn series mirrors my own growth—a time to honor the vibrant path behind me. This season asks me to loosen my grip—on the loss of my mother’s physical presence, on old roles—and lean into the quiet courage of letting go, one small leaf at a time. In these yarns, I’m learning to trust what my mother planted in me and to find a quiet, tender beauty in beginning my next season.

Why this matters

Life without Shirley - Welcome to my Autumn. Shirley shaped every part of who I am—daughter, mother, leader, and artist. Even when my early art showed promise, her steady drumbeat was clear: a woman must be able to support herself. Art could be joy and expression, but independence had to be non‑negotiable. That belief set my path into business and hospitality, and only now, in my own autumn, am I learning how to hold both: the fierce self‑reliance she insisted on and the creative life she quietly made possible.

Introducing Shirley Peel - My Mother & Mentor

My mother, Shirley Peel, came of age in a world that did not expect much from women—and refused to stay in that place. She was part of the generation that fought for what many of us now take for granted: control over our own bodies, the ability to borrow money and buy homes in our own names, real career paths, and a wider definition of family. A believer that “well‑behaved women seldom make history,” she organized locally, served on city committees as the only woman in the room, ran for office, and helped shape the city she lived in.

As a working mother, she went back to school, earning her bachelor’s degree with honors and then a master’s in public administration. She helped other “uppity women” push colleges to recruit women for real jobs, joking that they were the “housewife mafia” as they quietly rewrote the rules. Her career carried her from social work in Detroit to Washington, D.C., where she retired as Executive Officer to the Director of Civil Works for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, receiving the Superior Civilian Service Award for her leadership.

Shirley didn’t march or burn bras. Instead, she took every opportunity to improve her life, raise strong, independent daughters, and mentor the women who worked for her—opening doors, naming their talent, and helping them move forward. She lived long enough to see women become CEOs, generals, astronauts, and business owners, and she knew those changes were rooted in the movement that shaped her.

These Autumn Yarns are my way of tracing how her belief in women, in education, and in quiet, persistent courage shaped the path I walk now.