IB Means, In Band: The Leadership Challenge of False Choices
- Jeremy Earnhart
- Jul 7
- 13 min read
Updated: Aug 9
Over the past several months, I've written about the financial impact of comprehensive music programs (The Cost of Not Playing), the relationship between sustained arts participation and student attendance (The Unexpected Attendance Strategy), the unintended consequences of weighted cradit (The Hidden Cost of Class Rank), and why comprehensive public schools remain one of America's greatest educational inventions (The Accidental Masterpiece).
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Now, more than twenty years later, people still stop me at conferences and conventions to mention a short video we produced at L.D. Bell High School.
The video spread throughout the music education community, but what people usually remember isn't the video itself.
They remember these words.
IB Means, In Band.
When I was Director of Bands at L.D. Bell in Hurst-Euless-Bedford ISD, the phrase became a simple way of encouraging academically ambitious students—and their families—to understand that they did not have to choose between the International Baccalaureate (IB) Programme and participation in band.
Apparently, the slogan stuck.
It was memorable.
It was catchy.
More importantly, it was true.
What I didn't fully appreciate at the time was that the phrase represented something much larger than music education.
It reflected a belief about how schools should be designed.
Every student who wants to pursue a rigorous academic pathway should also be able to pursue the experiences that give school meaning. Whether that experience is band, orchestra, choir, theatre, dance, visual arts, athletics, career and technical education, debate, robotics, student government, or another passion entirely, rigorous academics should expand opportunities—not limit them.
The challenge is rarely student capacity.
More often, it is organizational capacity.
When districts intentionally align scheduling, counseling, staffing, and program design, students can pursue multiple forms of excellence without unnecessary barriers.
The question has never been whether students can do both.
The question is whether adults are willing to design schools that allow them to.
A Lesson from L.D. Bell
The slogan grew out of real students making real decisions.
One family transferred their son, Garrett, into HEB ISD specifically because of the International Baccalaureate Programme at L.D. Bell. He also happened to be an outstanding trumpet player.
For Garrett, the decision was never about choosing one opportunity over another.
He pursued one of the state's most rigorous academic programs while continuing to perform at a high level in one of the nation's premier high school band programs.
That wasn't accidental.
Counselors worked through scheduling challenges.
Teachers communicated across departments.
Administrators believed both opportunities mattered.
Most importantly, the adults refused to create a choice that students should never have had to make in the first place.
"I chose L.D. Bell for the legacy of the band program. My first time watching Bell was in 2002 at SMBC when finals got rained out. I was lucky to see their prelims performance. It made a huge impact on me—so much that I can still see the color guard's black wigs and the classic L.D. Bell uniforms of the early 2000s.I knew I had to somehow make it into one of their productions.
In the summer of 2007, I met Megan Lewis at UTA Band Camp, where she told me about the IB Programme. That was my in! Not only did I receive a world-class education through IB, I was also surrounded by an incredible sense of community and belonging in the band program. I was welcomed with open arms by the educators in all of my courses from the very beginning. Band and IB at L.D. Bell truly taught me how to be a worldly scholar and leader."
— Garrett Flowers
L.D. Bell High School, Class of 2008
The Parent Perspective
Garrett's experience was not unique. Families recognized the same opportunity from the outside.
When Matt Romero and his family prepared to relocate from Austin to North Texas in 2007, they weren't simply looking for a school with a strong band program. They were looking for a comprehensive public school where rigorous academics and exceptional student experiences reinforced one another rather than competed for students' time.
Today, Romero serves on the HEB ISD Board of Trustees. Looking back, he says that experience continues to shape how he thinks about public education.
"When our family was planning our move from Austin to North Texas in 2007, our oldest son had already completed his first year of high school. He asked that, if he had to change schools, we move somewhere with a strong band program. At the same time, we wanted a school that would challenge him academically and offer a wide range of opportunities.
HEB ISD and L.D. Bell High School gave us both. Over the years, all three of our children benefited from the district's rich combination of rigorous academics, fine arts, athletics, career and technical education, and extracurricular opportunities, including the IB Programme, AP courses, the award-winning L.D. Bell Blue Raider Band, and programs at the Career and Technical Education Center.
Our family's experience continues to shape one of my guiding principles as a school board member: Kids show up for the programs they love, and we get to teach them algebra while they're there."
— Matt Romero
HEB ISD Board Trustee, Place 3
A Partnership Built Around Students
By Judy Chapman
Former IB Coordinator, L.D. Bell High School, HEB ISD
In the early 2000s, I was asked to become the International Baccalaureate Coordinator at L.D. Bell High School in Hurst-Euless-Bedford ISD. While I was excited to take on the challenge, I knew almost nothing about IB, and I certainly didn't know the work that lay ahead.
One thing I did understand was that the program would need students. Where would I find students willing to embrace an academically demanding program in a culture that often encouraged them to take the easier path? Fortunately, Bell already had one of the strongest band programs in the country, and I believed many of those students would also thrive in IB.
I began recruiting interested ninth-grade students and, during their sophomore year, organized an informational field trip to Dallas. The list of participating students went into teachers' mailboxes at the very end of the previous school day—after most teachers had already gone home. Fortunately, band directors tend to work late.
As I was loading students onto the buses the next morning, Jeremy Earnhart stepped aboard and announced he was joining us. Many of the students attending the trip were also in band, and he wanted to understand what IB was and what it might mean for them.
Thankfully, instead of wondering why he was crashing my field trip, I welcomed him aboard. That day marked the beginning of our collaboration—and our shared commitment to finding ways for students to participate in both programs.
IB requires students to complete six subject areas over two years, including an elective. IB Music was one of the elective options available, so I suggested that we offer it. The band directors were understandably skeptical. Music theory was not a strength for many students, but they agreed to attend IB Music training to learn more.
The only training I could find that fit their schedules was at a fairly rustic location in California, where I had been told there was only one internet connection. I chose not to mention that detail, knowing our band directors were well ahead of most of us when it came to technology. Before they had been in training for even two hours, I received an email from Jeremy saying that we could, indeed, make IB Music work. (When I later asked how he managed to send email from such a remote location, he simply reminded me that he was very charming.)
One option within the IB Music curriculum allowed students to earn credit through participation in a musical ensemble. Our concert bands were already performing extraordinarily sophisticated literature at a very high level, so we submitted recordings from concerts and UIL performances. The results spoke for themselves. Our IB Music scores were consistently outstanding.
More importantly, our willingness to work together—and our school's willingness to build a master schedule that allowed students to participate in multiple high-level programs—helped Bell develop one of the largest IB programs in Texas.
None of this was easy. We created additional pathways for students through zero-hour classes, summer sessions for courses such as Health and Speech, credit-by-exam opportunities, and thoughtful alignment between required coursework and IB electives. As participation grew, scheduling actually became easier. Six sections of IB English are far easier to schedule than two or three.
The first major hurdle in recruiting students disappeared when we could honestly say, "IB Means In Band." It would have been a tremendous mistake to tell students they had to choose between IB and band. My guess is that most would have chosen band.
In August 2004, my youngest daughter became a member of the Bell marching band. I often arrived early to evening rehearsals—not just to pick her up, but to watch what she loved so much. Those rehearsals were demanding, repetitive, and intense, but they were also filled with laughter, camaraderie, and the band directors' self-deprecating humor. As a career educator, I found myself appreciating another form of exceptional teaching.
Like band, IB asks students to pursue excellence. But I am not sure IB alone could have provided the joy that band did.
Building an Authentic Academic Partnership
By Chris Ferrell
Inaugural IB Music Teacher, L.D. Bell High School
Current Supervisor of Instrumental Music, Cobb County School District (Georgia)
When we were first presented with the opportunity—and I do mean opportunity—to help implement the International Baccalaureate Programme at L.D. Bell High School, my initial reaction was probably the same as that of many practicing secondary music educators:
"Impossible."
"How?"
"Why?"
After taking a step back, however, we quickly realized we had been given a rare opportunity to create experiences that would not only deepen our students' understanding of music, but also strengthen the academic bridge between music and the other disciplines they were studying. We now had another voice at the table advocating for the authentic integration of arts education into the academic lives of our students.
There were certainly challenges. But by carefully examining the IB Music curriculum, we discovered that many of its core elements were already embedded within our music program. The challenge wasn't creating something entirely new—it was recognizing what already existed and presenting it in a way that allowed students to excel without adding unnecessary or intimidating coursework to already demanding schedules.
Through the commitment of Jeremy Earnhart, the entire band staff, our administration, and IB Coordinator Judy Chapman, we built a truly collaborative partnership. Together, we shaped an IB Music program that provided authentic, connected learning experiences through thoughtful implementation, shared commitment, and a belief that excellence in music belonged alongside excellence in academics.
The result was not only outstanding student achievement in IB Music, but a program that demonstrated what is possible when academic and fine arts leaders work together on behalf of students.
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Looking Back
When I first began writing this article, I expected it to be a reflection on a slogan that had become part of L.D. Bell's culture.
Instead, it became something much more meaningful.
As the article was shared, former students, parents, teachers, and colleagues reached out with their own memories—not simply of a band program, but of a school intentionally designed so students could pursue rigorous academics without sacrificing the experiences that gave school meaning.
Their perspectives transformed this piece from a personal recollection into a shared history.
Former International Baccalaureate Coordinator Judy Chapman reflected on the academic partnership that made the vision possible. Former Assistant Band Director Dr. Chris Ferrell described the daily commitment required to make it work. Former student Garrett Flowers shared what it felt like to live the experience, while Matt Romero, now serving on the HEB ISD Board of Trustees, explained why his family chose HEB ISD in the first place.
Each remembered the story from a different vantage point.
Remarkably, they all described the same philosophy.
Perhaps that's because IB Means In Band was never really about band.
It was about building a school where students never had to choose between excellence and belonging.
Leadership Happens in the Master Schedule
As I later transitioned into district leadership, I learned something important.
Mission statements are easy.
Master schedules tell the truth.
Schools reveal what they value by what they make possible.
If a district genuinely values advanced academics, fine arts, athletics, career pathways, and extracurricular involvement, those priorities should be reflected in scheduling practices, graduation pathways, staffing decisions, counseling conversations, and resource allocation.
The master schedule is not simply a logistical document.
It is a leadership document.
Every scheduling decision either expands opportunity or limits it.
Too often, school systems unintentionally create false choices.
IB or Band.
AP or Orchestra.
Athletics or Theatre.
CTE or Choir.
When students are forced to choose between two worthwhile experiences, the problem is often not with the student.
It is with the system.
Great leaders eliminate false choices.
From a Slogan to a Philosophy
As Director of Fine Arts in Arlington ISD, I spent countless hours working with principals, counselors, curriculum leaders, and fellow fine arts educators to ensure that rigorous academic pathways and exceptional student experiences strengthened—not competed with—one another.
During presentations surrounding the district's 2014 bond program and the planning of the Arlington ISD Center for Visual and Performing Arts, I often found myself returning to the phrase IB Means In Band.
By then, however, the phrase had evolved.
The objective was never to advocate for band over another program.
The objective was to advocate for students.
Whether a student's passion was music, theatre, dance, visual arts, athletics, or another pursuit was beside the point.
Students pursuing International Baccalaureate, Advanced Placement, dual credit, early college pathways, or specialized academies should not have to abandon the very experiences that help them discover purpose, belonging, identity, and joy.
Those opportunities should complement one another.
The strongest school systems intentionally design them that way.
The Swiss Army Knife Graduate
Years later, I realized this scheduling philosophy was describing something much larger.
It creates what I have come to call the Swiss Army Knife Graduate—students who leave school with both deep academic expertise and broad human capabilities.
International Baccalaureate develops exceptional researchers, writers, critical thinkers, and problem solvers.
The arts develop creativity, communication, collaboration, discipline, resilience, and leadership.
Athletics cultivate perseverance, teamwork, and commitment.
Career and technical education develops technical expertise and authentic problem solving.
Each contributes something different.
Together they prepare students for a future that increasingly rewards people who can think across disciplines, work with others, adapt to change, and continue learning throughout their lives.
Schools don't create those graduates by asking students to do less.
They create them by intentionally helping students do more.
Organizational Design Matters
Over the past several years, I've come to realize that IB Means In Band was really describing a broader leadership challenge.
Long before I began writing about the Swiss Army Knife Graduate or The Cost of Not Playing, I found myself returning to another idea:
False Choices.
I first used the phrase while discussing the unintended consequences of expanding elective options at the sixth-grade level. Well-intentioned decisions sometimes fragmented participation in ways that weakened the very comprehensive programs districts were trying to strengthen.
The more I studied those patterns, the more I realized they extended far beyond beginning band.
False choices appear whenever organizational design unnecessarily forces students to choose between worthwhile opportunities.
They aren't created by students.
They're created by systems.
School systems produce the outcomes they intentionally design.
We often talk about student choice as though it exists independently.
It doesn't.
Choice is shaped by schedules, graduation requirements, staffing allocations, counseling practices, transportation, facilities, and hundreds of leadership decisions made long before students ever register for classes.
Organizational design either expands opportunity—or unintentionally restricts it.
Readers familiar with my work will recognize this theme. Whether discussing The Cost of Not Playing, the Swiss Army Knife Graduate, strategic scheduling, or sustainable participation, the conclusion is remarkably consistent.
When schools intentionally remove barriers instead of creating them, students benefit.
Programs become stronger.
Families see greater value in public education.
Comprehensive school districts become places where academic excellence and meaningful student experiences reinforce one another rather than compete.
Why This Matters
Across the country, school systems are working to strengthen student engagement, improve attendance, increase enrollment, and prepare graduates for an increasingly complex future.
Those challenges will not be solved by asking students to participate in fewer meaningful experiences.
They will be solved by designing schools where more students can participate in them.
In an era of expanding educational choice, organizational design has become a competitive advantage.
Families increasingly choose school systems that make it possible for students to pursue multiple forms of excellence. Comprehensive public schools are uniquely positioned to offer rigorous academics alongside exceptional opportunities in the arts, athletics, career and technical education, and countless other experiences that help students discover purpose and belonging.
When districts unintentionally create barriers between those opportunities, they weaken one of their greatest competitive advantages. Rather than reinforcing the value of comprehensive public education, they make it easier for families to conclude they can find what they need elsewhere.
School choice isn't simply about where students can take Algebra II or AP English.
It's about where they can become the fullest version of themselves.
Great school systems don't ask students to become less in order to achieve more.
They intentionally design opportunities that allow students to become more.
More curious.
More disciplined.
More creative.
More collaborative.
More resilient.
More prepared for whatever comes next.
Whether that journey begins in band, orchestra, choir, theatre, dance, visual arts, athletics, robotics, debate, or another passion entirely isn't the point.
The point is that students shouldn't have to choose.
Twenty years later, that's still what I mean when I say:
IB Means, In Band.
Epilogue: It Started with a Flyer
As I was finishing this article, I came across a flyer I created after attending International Baccalaureate training in 2003.
At the time, I thought I was answering a simple question from prospective students and parents:
"Can I do I.B. and Band?"
The answer, of course, was "Yes!!!"
Looking back more than twenty years later, I realize the flyer was never really about band. It was about removing unnecessary barriers so students could pursue rigorous academics without giving up the activities that gave school meaning.
I didn't have the language then.
Today, I would describe it as eliminating false choices.
Perhaps that's why this article feels less like the end of a story than the continuation of one. The philosophy behind IB Means In Band didn't begin with this article—it began with a belief, shared by students, parents, teachers, and school leaders, that great schools should expand opportunities rather than force students to choose between them.
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Jeremy L. Earnhart, Ed.D. is the founder of School Music Consulting
Research at the intersection of educational strategy, organizational design, and school finance. Helping school leaders uncover hidden capacity, strengthen student opportunity, and improve organizational performance through strategic fine arts design.
His work has been covered by The New York Times, NPR/KERA, Marketplace, CBS 11, NBC 5, and the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. The New York Times highlighted Arlington ISD's decision to eliminate instrument rental fees, noting that band participation at the middle and high school levels "jumped" (Rich, 2015).
That work continues in The Cost of Not Playing (2026), Dr. Earnhart’s ongoing research on the systems-level impact of music participation in public schools.
His doctoral research centered around the competencies of the central office music administrator:
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