My neighbour Margaret is quite hard of hearing. I know this because of the often weird conversations we have where the answers given often bare no relationship to the questions asked. I know this because of the volume at which she sets the TV. I know this because of the number of times I'm asked to repeat myself. But there were two clear signs early on, before we had as much to do with each other as we now do. Sign one. She asked me my son's name. Clearly my yelling OLIVER! had escaped her. But then there was the time I mentioned I was going to see him sing in a concert. "Oh," she said. "I didn't know he sang." Call the audiologist immediately. That boy is always singing and he sings with a great deal of gusto. To put it another way, he is really, really loud. I've always said he was born with a faulty volume switch. In a domestic situation, loud is not always an attribute. On stage, finding that can be your friend. That big strong voice was showcased at a singing concert tonight. A number of Fame students whose mothers pay for private singing lessons (to quote my own joke) got to display their talents before a group of family and friends. It was a special kind of awesome. These performers are all still young but some I have watched develop for about a decade. It's so wonderful to see how both the talent and confidence has grown. That's something to be loud and proud about.