Graduation like mother, like daughter

The moment finally had arrived.

In the lobby of Towson Center yesterday, with hundreds of black-robed graduates-to-be and their families taking pictures and giving good luck hugs, Donna Ward, 31, turned to her mother, Ida Ward, 61.

It was noon. They were both about to earn their bachelor's degrees from Towson State University.

"All right, Mom," said Donna Ward, her hands on her mother's shoulders. She paused a second, then enunciated the word, relishing every syllable: "Congratulations."

They reached to each other, hugging hard and long, swaying slightly.

Just as they had taken different paths to this point, they then turned and walked their own ways, winding through the warm, crowded hallways to their assigned rooms to line up. Ida Ward helped her fellow graduates arrange their hoods. Donna Ward cracked jokes about the heat.

An hour later, on opposite sides, they filed into the dim auditorium. Nearly 1,000 other graduates filled the rows, scanning the crowd, trying to spot a father, a sister. Cameras flashed, relatives shouted, graduates waved.

For each, it was a triumph -- but maybe more so for the Wards, for their paths to this day were not easy.

Ida Ward, mother of five and Towson State employee for the past 25 years, became so interested in the tests she typed as the sociology department's secretary that she started taking classes.

"I would say, 'Boy, I wonder what the answer to this is.' " That was in 1976. Eventually, she formally enrolled and worked toward her bachelor of science degree.

Meanwhile, her youngest child, Donna, was traveling around the world, living in New York and Japan and working at jobs including carpentry and housecleaning so she could work as an actress. She had studied at Towson State for two years after high school, then had dropped out.

But Donna returned from Japan during her father's bout with cancer. Her parents were worried she hadn't settled down or earned a degree. Even more, they were bothered that she didn't seem concerned about her future. She took their talk seriously, and encouraged by her mother's diligence, decided to return to school and take a taxing schedule so she could finish in time to graduate with her mother.

Even though Donna had to take algebra three times, she majored in theater.

Along the way, the two women -- who share the same smile and striking light blue eyes -- discovered common ground.

They sometimes helped each other study. They ate lunch together on campus.

And when Ida Ward earned an A in her physics course -- the one she took pass-fail because she was so sure she couldn't do it -- she called Donna. She knew her daughter would understand.

When Mrs. Ward wanted to sample new experiences, she asked Donna to take her to a gay bar. Her daughter also routinely gets her tickets for local plays. Suburban mother and artsy daughter spent time hashing out their differences and working on their relationship. Now, they call it a friendship.

And they tease each other, often finishing each other's sentences. They both had the same mathematics professor, for example.

"He said I was smarter than you," Donna Ward told her mother.

Responded Mrs. Ward: "He said you were LOUDER than me."

Between the afternoon ceremony yesterday and a second one in the early evening, Towson State University awarded 1,661 baccalaureate degrees and 257 master's degrees.

Dr. D. Bruce Johnstone, former chancellor of the State University of New York, was awarded an honorary degree for Doctor of Humane Letters. At the evening ceremony, the same degree was awarded to Walter Sondheim Jr., a Baltimore man honored for his involvement in projects ranging from desegregating schools to revitalizing downtown.

But yesterday, perhaps no other daughter was as proud of her mother as Donna Ward.

"I feel it's more her graduation than mine. My mom is really what education is all about. She understands the world differently because of her education."

And perhaps no other mother was as proud of her daughter as Ida Ward.

"I never thought this day would come. It was a struggle for her," Mrs. Ward said. "All I can say is: at last."