In the 1989 Ron Howard film 'Parenthood', Jason Robards tells his adult son, played by Steve Martin, that “there is no end, you never cross the goal line, spike the ball and do your touchdown dance” when you're a parent.Most of the time, that's true. You never stop worrying about, caring for and loving your daughter or son. That little voice in the back of your m ind asking “Is everything all right?” is rarely still.But sometimes, there are moments so exhilarating and so meaningful, the little voice is silent. Everything is all right, and a touchdown dance is in order.Such was a moment this past May when my elder daughter, Katie, fulfilled her lifelong dream and was granted a doctorate in education.That she received her diploma from the Dean of Harvard's Graduate School of Education, Dr Kathleen McCartney, made me wonder at the role fate plays in our lives. (As a doctoral candidate at Yale, Dean McCartney worked in Bermuda from 1980-1981 on the Child Development Project with my father, Permanent Secretary for Health and Social Services David Critchley.)That Katie has been offered and has accepted a position at the University of Washington in Seattle as an assistant professor in the university's highly regarded Information School made me beam with pride.That she received her doctoral mantle from her beloved mentor, acclaimed developmental psychologist Dr Howard Gardner, made this the very definition of a jitterbug-worthy moment.Like other colleges and universities celebrating commencement this month and next, Harvard hosts a wide variety of activities for undergraduates, graduates, alumni and their families spread over a three-day period. Katie's contingent was made up of her dad, Tom; her stepfather, Gordon; her stepmother, Joyce; and her two teenage sisters, Alaire and Molly. We were among tens of thousands of people travelling to Cambridge to celebrate the accomplishments of a loved one.With 323,000 living alumni, 21,000 students, and 7,500 graduates, everything about a Harvard commencement is larger than life. The highlight for many are the exercises in Harvard Yard during which degrees are conferred en masse, school by school, to the graduates (individual diplomas and certificates are distributed later in separate locations) and at which honorary degrees are bestowed.This year, 32,000 people flowed into Tercentenary Theatre (the large, open space book ended by Widener Library and Memorial Church) where rental chairs, Jumbotron screens and Veritas-emblazoned banners had been set up for commencement exercises, the 361st in Harvard's 375-year history.Graduates are allowed two tickets for their commencement guests. The tickets must be shown at gates opening from the streets bordering the four sides of Harvard Yard before attendees run the graduation gauntlet: through security, past representatives of the Alumni Association's Happy Commencement Committee (apparently the oldest committee, of any description, in North America) and into Tercentenary Theatre to snag a seat (even with a ticket, seating is not guaranteed).By 6.45am on Thursday, May 23, Harvard Yard was teeming with thousands of early birds searching for a seat that would offer a glimpse of proceedings that wouldn't begin for three hours. Katie had given her two tickets to her dad and me; Tom graciously offered his ticket to Molly who had received permission to miss classes to attend her sister's graduation exercises.So it was Molly and I who rose at dawn on commencement morning, grabbed coffee and scones at Pete's in Harvard Square and ran the graduation gauntlet to settle in Section D6 of Tercentenary Theatre.A United Nations of conversations chattered around us. In front of us were two sisters from Korea; behind us, parents from New Delhi; next to them, a grandmother from New Jersey. Families had travelled from across North America and around the world — 201 countries were represented, according to Harvard's commencement web page — to sit shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow and celebrate their particular graduate's hard-won achievements.I had lots of time to pause and reflect as I sat in Tercentenary Theatre on this lovely spring day and, later, in Radcliffe Yard where the Ed School distributed diplomas and certificates to 646 master's degree and 34 doctoral candidates.I thought about the brunch for doctoral candidates and their families we had attended the day before, followed by the robing ceremony at which candidates receive their mantles from their advisers.At the brunch, Dean McCartney told me how fondly she remembered my dad, as well as Conchita Ming and Marion Lines, both of whom were instrumental in establishing the Child Development Project. The research Dean McCartney did in Bermuda in 1981 is still considered groundbreaking in the field of early childhood education.I thought of how my father would have revelled in Katie's accomplishments and how he would have appreciated the circle-of-life irony of his granddaughter studying under a Harvard dean whose graduate work had been done in his Government department in Bermuda.Katie is driven to make a difference, as Dad was. She believes, as he did, that it's through quality education that social and economic injustice will ultimately be addressed. She plans to continue her research in Bermuda, adding to the work she's already done about the manner in which young people develop their sense of identity and self-worth.I had to believe that my dad was smiling down from some astral perch, chuckling in his inimitable fashion: “Katie, you're amazing!”I thought of the support Katie received from Bank of Bermuda Foundation. The foundation's Sir John Cox award made four of her years of study far less financially painful for her than they would have been.I thought about the robing ceremony and what it felt like to watch my tall, slender, radiantly happy daughter stand quietly, while Dr Gardner paid tribute to her diligent study and to her prodigious work ethic. He conferred upon her “lifetime membership” in Project Zero, his educational research group at the Education School, before gently slipping the doctoral mantle over her head.As Molly and I waited in Harvard Yard for commencement to start, I realised the goal line had been crossed; the ball had been spiked. It was time to dance.Katie had been aiming at this very moment for seven years. Seven years of earning a second master's degree, working as a Teaching Fellow, joining the Project Zero team as a project manager, sitting on a board overseeing the development of an MTV series on bullying, publishing articles in peer-reviewed journals, developing and teaching a new course at the Ed School, speaking at and attending conferences, conducting research in Bermuda for her dissertation, and writing her doctoral thesis.I've never seen anyone work so hard, and I've never seen anyone love her work so much.So, deep inside, my heart did a little touchdown dance. It was joyous and, I knew, momentary.Because parents rarely get the chance to dance in the end zone.But every now and then, when everything is all right and that little voice is finally still, we do.Wendy Davis Johnson is interning with The Royal Gazette as a part of the requirements of a Master's degree in journalism programme she's pursuing at Harvard Extension School. She can be reached at wendydavisjohnson@fas.harvard.edu