Band is often seen as a place of music, tradition, and discipline. For some, it’s an extracurricular. For others, it’s a passion. But for seniors Lexi Crossno and Sarah Lesko, the Mount Olive band program became something much deeper—a story of resilience, adaptation, and an unshakable sense of belonging.

Like many young musicians in Mount Olive, Sarah picked up her instrument in fifth grade, choosing the flute. She expected band to be a stepping stone, something to do before moving on to something else. But something changed along the way—a teacher who made music feel meaningful.

“When I came into high school, I was going to quit because I didn’t really love it that much,” Sarah recalls. “But we had a really great band director, Mr. Harmon. He helped a lot of us truly love band.”

But when Harmon left, the program was shaken. Half the band quit. For those who remained, the road ahead was uncertain. They cycled through three to four directors in a short span, and without consistency, it would have been easy for the program to collapse entirely.

Instead, the students pulled together.

“We really wanted to be here,” Sarah says. “So we worked it out. We learned to lean on each other.”

For Lexi, band became more than just an activity—it was a community, a space where she could be herself. “Mr. Harmon really made it a safe space for us,” she explains. “Before, a lot of people thought of band as a chore, something that dragged their energy down. But he made it fun. We laughed, we cracked jokes, and we wanted to be there.”

That sense of belonging became even more important when the students were left to figure things out largely on their own. Without a dedicated band director at times, the structure of the program became more democratic. Decisions on what to play, when to play, and how to organize performances fell into the hands of the students.

While many high school bands operate under the clear direction of a band director, the Mount Olive band evolved into something unique—an organization where students took the reins.

Lexi, who had started on bass drum before transitioning to mallet percussion, found herself shifting yet again when another classmate left the program. “I had to take over her instrument, which was quads for marching band. And now I play drum set for pep band at basketball games.”

Without a full-time director available for every event, the students stepped up. “We have to call off the songs, decide what we’re playing, and figure things out as we go,” Lexi explains. “It’s like a democracy. It’s not just being in band—it’s leading it.”

This shift in responsibility gave them a skill set that most high school musicians don’t get. They weren’t just following instructions; they were making the decisions.

While both Lexi and Sarah found a home in band, they’re also carving out distinct futures beyond high school.

For Lexi, that means a career in emergency medical services. “I wasn’t really enjoying some of my classes in the last two periods of the day, so my counselor told me about the EMT program.” Now, she spends her afternoons learning from paramedics at the Litchfield emergency services department.

“We’re taught by paramedics, and we get to do hands-on work,” she explains. “We’re cleared for vitals, so we take blood pressure, check glucose levels, and apply oxygen masks. We even get to ride in the ambulance and work in the ER.”

Her long-term goal? Phlebotomy. “I want to be a licensed vampire,” she jokes. She plans to attend Midwest Technical Institute (MTI) for a five-week, hands-on program in Springfield that will certify her for work in the field before she moves on to more advanced medical training.

Sarah, on the other hand, is keeping music in her life while pursuing pharmacy at Southern Illinois University Edwardsville (SIUE). When Mount Olive lost a dedicated band director this year, she sought out another way to keep playing, joining the SIUE Community Concert Band alongside another Mount Olive student, Kyle. Twice a week, they leave after sixth hour to practice at SIUE, playing alongside college students and community members.

“I’ve played at ILMEA All-State twice,” Sarah shares. “I love music, and I plan to minor in it while I study pharmacy.”

Through all the uncertainty, change, and even heartbreak that came with losing their director and seeing their program shrink, Lexi and Sarah have come out stronger. They’ve learned self-governance, adaptability, and the power of community.

“We used to hate each other as freshmen,” Lexi laughs, referring to the way high school social groups can be divisive early on. “But now, our class just gets along. We’ve grown up, and we realize none of that matters.”

The band may not be the biggest. It may not go on Disney World trips or have a massive marching section. But what it has built—resilience, teamwork, and leadership—will outlast any uniform, any halftime show, or any parade.

“Whether we play again after high school or not, this experience is going with us,” Sarah says. “And that’s what really matters.”