I have been told by a friend who is working her way to becoming a doctor that she is discouraged by her dad to specialize in Oncology. I never understood why. I thought is it not the most rewarding job in the world?

The cool thing about the job I have right now is that I always feel like: the only difference between me and Superman is that he’s wearing a cape while I am wearing a white hard hat. Both of us have daily missions to save lives. I do it through educating stakeholders in urban housing and giving recommendations to improve the disaster-resistant characteristics of the homes of families who have relatively low income. I know that it is not really my initiative because I was being paid to do all those. But really I am happy to do them all.

However, like Superman, not everyone gets me.

I cannot do this alone. My group cannot do this alone. We partner with people who are supposedly more concerned than us, but unfortunately, they are not. They are not bothered that they put thousands of families at risk when they built these homes. Among all the people that I do not want to mess with, I am obliged to deal with them because of the influence they are supposed to have nationwide. Ironically, it works the opposite way here.

The housing industry has sprouted so much in the past ten years or so. Rowhouses after rowhouses, townhouses, low cost houses… name it, they are just booming everywhere. It’s like a contagious abnormal cell infecting the roots of this land. It is eating up the safety of our men.

We reached out to concerning parties, to help them improve their designs, and most often, to correct them, actually.

We started with great hope, because it looked like they wanted our help. They got excited with the cure to their continuing problems with construction quality. There could be an end to the cancer of the land. We could train them with no fee.

But housing is business, so they refuse to stop the operations. Rather, they promise to apply those improvements in the houses that they are going to construct next. But promises after promises year after year but none ever seem to happen.

And everytime they break it down to us that they are not going to do this I could imagine Augustus Waters. I imagine Jamie Sullivan. I imagine my late grandmothers who passed away. I imagine that tiny speck of hope taken away from the families.

Do oncologists feel the same frustration towards their expiring patients? Is there more bleak than hope? How do they cope with every unsuccessful treatment?

See. The ugly side of being always the one bringing that beacon of hope to the hopeless is that there are many factors to the diminishing of your light. Many are not happy with the hope you are giving. That is why I compare them to the cancer cells in the body because they truly are contagious and they spread fast.

Engineering has never been this depressing. But I will not back down. I will never put down this light.

Are you with me?