Choosing Cardboard

First, I want to mention that although these blog posts are public, they have always really been a self-explorative process. I'm writing as though an audience can and will read them, but the posts are intended to practice my writing skills and to answer questions I have myself. They aren't intended to produce enjoyable content for an audience–they're intended for me to be the primary audience. The process of writing often produces both answers and questions as it happens–I don't have them all before I start writing–so it's fitting that this post is starting off with some of the questions I've been answering on loop for several weeks now. 

For those not yet made aware, I am transferring to Western Michigan University for the Spring 2026 semester for my second Sophomore semester to study Paper Engineering. WMU is the school I initially intended to attend until certain circumstances sent me unregretfully to Indiana Wesleyan University. I learned more about myself, communications, and Christianity at IWU, all of which will benefit me as I now pursue a career in the paper industry.

Answers to the FAQs

What is Paper Engineering?

"Guys." I want to plead, "it's engineering, but with paper." I haven't taken a single one of the classes yet, so I really can't answer the question in much depth. Besides, the question doesn't make sense to me!--I get a little annoyed, to be honest, each time I hear it, because when someone hears "Chemical Engineering" or "Civil Engineering" they don't ask "what's that?" even though those fields are NOT self-explanatory. Far from it. But now people are confronted with an entirely self-explanatory concept and they don't put two and two together: it's PAPER. ENGINEERING.

Setting my unnecessary rage aside, I often respond with something like, "Well, it's a branch of chemical engineering. Think about all the different paper products you interact with! Egg cartons are different from amazon boxes are different from cheerios boxes are different from copy paper. Not to mention sticky notes, index cards, and even those little label stickers that dry up after a couple years but my Mom still has them somewhere in a drawer. Each of those paper products has a different chemical composition that gives it the strength or smoothness it needs. That's what a paper engineer understands and alters." And people are typically content with that answer. They respond with "oh that makes sense!" or "of course paper engineering is a thing! I just never thought about it." Which is fair. But is it fair? Why have we not been made aware of basic environmental engineering positions, and instead, American highschoolers aspire to sell pharmaceuticals?

Why did I pick Paper Engineering?

Now this is a scholarship question. People aren't really asking me this as often in-person, but questions along the lines of "why do you like cardboard" pop up. I have a couple answers. Which one is the truth? I couldn't say. I think a combination is the reality–the only falsehood would be saying only one answer is true.

My go-to response is: "Well, I grew up in a big family (5 siblings) so there was always plenty of cardboard. We ate a lot of cereal, at least. So cardboard was the cheapest, most accessible material for me to make stuff with. And I'm an artist at heart." and most people are content with that answer. I can then expand it to talk about Moosey Club, my figurines, and the more recent Cardboard Club if I'm feeling chatty and they're acting receptive. It feels like a genuine response, and is one of those "cardboard has been with me through my whole life" making-of-the-hero backstories. 

My more flippant answer is "it's funny," but truly, that may be an equally genuine answer. I'll dive into "the power of a niche" more later on in this post, but the short answer is this: people are going to remember you for something. So why not choose what they remember you for? Cardboard is harmless, and even lighthearted–which is what I'm going for in memories.

My third answer, that I've never really shared out loud, is that cardboard is part of my identity now. It's a mixture of both the first and second responses: I've been making stuff out of cardboard since Elementary school and people have remembered me for it (see: "So you're the Cardboard Guy?"). There was a short period of time where I thought "it's time to move on to sewing…" and don't get me wrong, I've been working on my sewing and embroidery skills more than ever, but trying to cut out cardboard hurt my spirit. My business cards are even made of cardboard! I put "Avid Communicator meets Cardboard Enthusiast" as my LinkedIn tagline and it makes sense! I was a communications major when I came up with it, but I remain a communications scholar even without taking the classes (Currently, I'm working on David Brooks' How to Know a Person (2023) which is unarguably a communications book). Tangents aside, cardboard is so folded into my past that I truly want it to remain in my present and future. There are enough memories burned into the brown paper that the smoke is all I see. 

But do any of those three answer the question? Not really. They need a supplement to be a proper answer. That supplement is this: I want to learn all I can–way "too much"--about the material I love: paper (or, more accurately, cardboard). In part because I think it'd be funny, in part because the material is baked into my past, and in whole because I want it in my future.

How do I feel about Western Michigan University?

The third question typically revolves around my switching schools. Western Michigan University (WMU) will certainly be a big culture shift from Indiana Wesleyan University (IWU). There's no doubt in my mind about that. But there are certainly not only "bad" shifts. 

While it's not nearly my biggest priority in a school, my family and mentors are invested in the religious quality of an institution. I am a Christian, and Christian values are important to me. At IWU, those values were largely modelled by staff and directly encouraged from students. Prayer and spiritual fellowship were not just allowed, they were recommended and enforced by chapel credit requirements. Forced religion leaves a sour taste in my mouth, as does the assumption that calling yourself a Christian makes you "better" than anyone else. While only a select few students actually may feel that way and the vast majority are far from self-righteous pricks, those few don't help schools like IWU feel welcoming to the unbelievers–as Jesus was. If anything, WMU will be a fantastic opportunity for me to leave a bubble of religious comfort, where everyone tends to fundamentally agree, into a challenging atmosphere of constant disagreement and consequent discussion. IWU was pivotal in constructing my foundational beliefs, and now WMU will give me the chance to test those beliefs.

One of those tests is drinking. Indiana Wesleyan follows the Wesleyan Church doctrine, in which alcohol is entirely prohibited on campus and even off-campus for staff. If you work at IWU, you aren't allowed to drink. On the other hand, Western has their own wine label as a result of a business class. They have–what I can imagine live up to the stories–fraternities and sororities. They have a bar in the student center. Drinking is not only allowed, it almost appears encouraged. Alcohol's prevalence will be a fantastic test for my belief that it should not be consumed–at least not by me. I have no inclination to hinder my intellectual capacity at any point. If I think thinking is too much, then I will make efforts to learn what I believe to be healthier coping and management strategies than self-inflicted blurriness. That all to say, Jesus did not view alcohol consumption as a sin (only its overconsumption and misuse) turning water into wine and all, and even if he had, he would not have shamed people for it. Likewise, I honestly hope to witness people drinking so that I can practice gracious refusal and yet Christlike acceptance as they are. While I will never buy alcohol, or allow it into my home or vehicles, I can still love and support those who choose a belief system different from mine. 

Other belief systems that differ from mine are LGBTQIA+ and mixed housing opportunities, but I don't see this website as a place to discuss politics. On a similar note to alcohol, I will have the opportunity to practice accepting all kinds of people without agreeing with them. 

WMU is a much larger campus than IWU, with a student population of roughly 17,000. That means it has more funding, and therefore more opportunities. I am looking forward to exploring those opportunities and meeting those people. 

Western also is a very environmentally-focused campus! They have solar-powered benches, composting bins, and degrees like "paper engineering" (whatever that is!). Having such a large institution championing the environment gives me hope. Hope that we can and will choose to steward this planet well after all.

In sum, I appreciated IWU and how its tight-knit community helped me grow stronger in my faith and communication skills, and I am extremely excited to dive from that pond into the ocean that is WMU, filled with sharks but also the most glorious sunrises.

The power of a niche

Thomas Edison may have had 1,093 patents, but kids in the American school system still only know him for one thing: the lightbulb. The controversy surrounding that statement isn't the point. The point is that the general populace will associate an individual with one thing. Just one. Tom Holland? Spider Man. Tobey Macguire? also Spider Man. Andrew Garfield? Well, he actually has had some really good other roles (see: Hacksaw Ridge, Tick Tick Boom), but also… Spider Man. Well, I don't want to be another Spider Man, so I'm choosing cardboard.

When I got to my first day of college, I had a plan. And by a plan I mean three things: a red crocheted water bottle holder, the game bananagrams, and business cards made from cereal boxes. Three memorable things to establish my identity quickly and painlessly. I walked around with the water bottle at all times, so there was visual consistency (I also limited my closet to IWU colors: red, white, gray and black). I could play the game Bananagrams with anyone that wanted (and beat them every time) so there was activity consistency. And of course, I could hand them a business card from a cereal box, a novelty that could lead anybody interested to more of my work (here!). Again, something consistent that introduced part of my identity. 

I learned several things from those three things. First, that the visual consistency/oddity got the most questions: I heard "I love your water bottle holder! Did you make it?" at least a hundred times. Second, that the game had the most interaction (somehow, even though they rarely won–I've scheduled entire meetings just to play Bananagrams). And third, that the business card was the most intriguing, and led to the most money. Without that business card, I wouldn't have had my Spring 2025 Cardboard Club or sold two massive cardboard boats! 

But three niches don't count. So here's why they aren't three niches: First, the visual oddity can change. I could start wearing strange socks or fancy ties or this wacky hat–the point is that there is something out of the ordinary visually that can ease the start of a conversation, and then that conversation can lead to other, actually useful or engaging topics. My appearance will change and my tastes in clothing and accessories will change, but the concept doesn't. Therefore the concept isn't a "niche"--it's a conversation strategy. Second, the game doesn't count. Yes, Bananagrams is a lesser-known game, and there are 18 "versions" (of which I own all of them) but it's not something that can be discussed at length. Maybe if there were competitive Bananagrams events I could make something of it, but as it stands, collecting a game and being good at it and known for it does not qualify enough as a "niche" as I am defining it. On the other hand, the games Minecraft and Magic the Gathering (MTG) are niches, and I fall into those. But the niche to be understood in this post is paper.

Paper counts as a "niche" because there is SO much to know about it. Cardboard is just layered paper, but that makes it another layer deep into the "niche" category. Not all paper is cardboard, but all cardboard is AWESOME (ahem, I mean all cardboard is paper). Better yet, cardboard isn't famous in the same way games like Minecraft or MTG are. There aren't uber-famous creators or massive competitions for "cardboard" (barring, of course, Sherri Madison (the Queen of Cardboard), Sam Wilde (of Cardboard Adventures UK) and other incredible, but rare, cardboard creators). People aren't even as commonly known for loving "cardboard" as they are for loving frogs, let alone the superior creature: turtles! It's a rarer niche.

Remember, people are going to remember you for something. If you control what that something is, then you have consciously chosen your niche. I am choosing cardboard for the reasons mentioned above, like: it's funny. I love cardboard, and not many people say that, which makes me stand out and can be used as a platform for sharing things that are or become important to me. 

The Abundantly Adaptable Medium

Perhaps even more so than when I was younger, cardboard is ever-present and entirely cheap (unless you're referring to MTG cards as "cardboard" in which case it is entirely expensive). Cardboard also has more use-cases than ever. There have been awesome breakthroughs in packaging like one that can replace some bubble wraps with paper-based self-locking wrapping, and even new methods of paper creation, like the new Ukrainian company "Releaf" making it out of old leaves! These are proof that we haven't found nearly all of the commercial uses for paper, let alone the entertainment uses. Whatever I decide to pursue, paper will be able to adapt to it. 

The Rebuttals

What about Creativity? Isn't engineering all math?

Well, that's an extreme oversimplification. Besides, creativity permeates every field, especially engineering. To be fair to the asker, the question was phrased moreso in a way that was asking about my art: "you're choosing math and science over art?" In that case then yeah: career-wise, yes. 

Here's the idea though. If I continue with just visual arts I could learn some more about the mediums I'm using and the processes of creating with them. That's true. But if I take the engineering route, I will learn SO much more about paper, and can continue art on the side. Math and science will be tools to enable greater creativity. Think of architecture: anybody going into it is studying for at least three separate bachelors worth of material: art, math, and engineering. I don't know much about architects, but I know they are creative and use a lot of math, as do engineers.

Where's my entrepreneurial spirit going?

Valid question. If I pursue a salaried position at a Paper Mill, it appears as though I'm abandoning previous entrepreneurial ideas. But Don, (and anyone else who supported the CRATE idea) you'd be happy to hear that may not be the case. While I certainly don't expect to start my own paper mill, I think the experience and understanding of paper and processes will transfer over. Imagine this: a person with a masters in Paper and Printing science with years of experience in the paper industry starts a cardboard-focused recreational arts facility. Now that person would know what they're doing and have connections in all the right places. IMAGINE?? That's going to be me in 20 years, having built up the capital, connections, and experience to truly realize the cardboard club of my dreams. A LegoLand, but cardboard, hosting countless creative workshops and artists from all over to master the medium of paper. The CRATE concept isn't going anywhere, it's being transformed and improved slowly and steadily.

What if I get tired of paper?

Hopefully that will never be the case. I highly doubt it will. But if I do, then I can use the transferable skills I will have learned to pursue my new interests. Project management and professionalism will improve in whatever position I'm in, and will help in any new position I enter. But let's be real,

how could you get bored of cardboard?