Steady Steps

The stairs at Saint Louis University are famous for a reason. For any Louisian, the climb is a workout; for Kidd Suleta, it is a daily negotiation. In a campus built into the slopes of Baguio, where the infrastructure often forgets that not everyone moves at the same pace, Kidd’s day is defined by a simple, honest word: struggle.

“Naliligaw-ligaw pa,” he admits. (I still get lost sometimes.)

He doesn’t say it for sympathy. It’s just the reality of navigating a maze of concrete steps and narrow hallways that weren't exactly built with him in mind. But he isn't tackling the incline alone. Most days, you’ll find him with a “buddy”—a constant presence that makes the steep SLU terrain a little less of a gamble.

A Change in Pace

Life for Kidd hasn’t always felt this steady. The turning point came from a practical shift during his training for Massage Therapy. It wasn't just about learning a skill; it was about the door it opened for his independence. Today, he’s even “on call,” proof that his training has turned into a tangible livelihood.

“Iba na ang takbo ng buhay ko ngayon,” he says. (The pace of my life is different now.)

Yet, behind the massage therapist is a “tech lover” who once dreamed of a different path. Back in 2020, Kidd wanted to enter ICT, but he was met with skepticism and remarks that stung. While he chose to prioritize stable work over his interest in software, his love for technology remains. He finds his joy in audio games and the quiet victory of mastering things people thought he couldn’t—like navigating browsers or managing emails.

“It turns out I can do it... it wasn’t that hard after all,” he reflects, recalling the same realization he had when he tried volleyball for the blind.

Finding a Mirror

Kidd carries a natural confidence that often surprises people. They see him navigating the crowds and assume he’s always been this way. He used to sing back when he was a kid—a spontaneous streak he’s since traded for more quiet pursuits.

If you ask him where he truly found his footing, he points to the school newspaper. It wasn’t a piece of art or a famous album that helped him understand himself; it was the local campus press. Seeing his world reflected in those pages gave him a sense of identity that words alone couldn’t quite capture. It was where he realized he wasn’t just a student navigating a difficult campus—he was a part of the story.

The View from the List

Hard work in Baguio usually ends with a view, and this semester, Kidd’s view is from the Dean’s List. It was an achievement he didn’t see coming, especially while balancing the physical exhaustion of getting from one building to the next.

For Kidd, the “win” isn’t about being better than anyone else. It’s the quiet satisfaction of knowing that despite the literal and figurative hurdles, he’s keeping up. His mind is as sharp as the Baguio air, even if the stairs sometimes try to slow him down.

Simple Ambitions

When you strip away the titles and the academic pressure, Kidd’s goals are grounded and relatable. If he could wake up tomorrow with any master skill, he wouldn’t ask for anything flashy. He’d just want to be a better cook.

“To learn how to cook things I don’t know how to cook yet,” he shares.

It’s a humble wish. It’s about the desire to create, to provide, and to master something new with his own two hands. It reflects the way he lives his life: one step at a time, learning the recipe as he goes, and making sure that despite the climb, he’s the one moving the life forward.

Kidd isn’t a symbol or a hero– he’s a student at SLU who happens to have a harder walk to class than most. But with his buddy by his side and a clear sense of who he is, he’s proving that you don’t need to see every step perfectly to know exactly where you’re headed.