A view into the wisdom of one of the city’s most familiar faces.
Back Room’s Favorite
Walk around South University on a busy Thursday night and you will see a crowd wrapped around the side of 605 Church Street, waiting eagerly for entrance through the tiny doorway. Howls of laughter, shouts of excitement, and declarations of exhilaration are the background music to this impatient line. But no, they’re not waiting outside Rick’s, Charley’s, or any other nearby bar. Instead, they’re waiting for a slice of hot, cheesy delight, straight from the counter of Back Room Pizza.
And who is it, the hero that’s going to manage these hordes of hungry college students cheering for an end to their cravings? The man behind the counter, Juan Castro, has more than enough experience needed to fulfill and cycle through these masses, serving each and every kid with a smile.
We’re sitting in the kitchen area of Back Room now, and Juan, who is balancing between answering my questions near the freezers and tending to the ovens at the front, makes his way back after selling a pepperoni slice to one of his many regulars. He recalls meeting the man here, and has been a friend to him ever since. That’s just how Juan works; every customer, whether they’re a short-term resident to the University of Michigan campus or a permanent “townie,” is treated like an individual. One patron might be stopping in for a quick bite on the walk home from a long lecture, and the next could be a thirtysomething looking for something convenient during their lunch break. On football weekends especially, it will almost certainly be alumni treating their children to lunch at one of their undergraduate haunts. And even more common, although not considered by most, is that the person who walks in is simply another human, with complexities and complications indiscernible to strangers like Juan.
This is why Juan, no stranger to hard times, practices his philosophy of kindness to all he encounters, regardless of who they appear to be. Juan, born John C. Leverett on May 31, 1986 in the small town of Plainview, Texas, was brought up in a home that was anything but perfect. He recalls that he often felt he was unaccepted or unwelcomed by his own household, and that teasing and bullying weren’t uncommon occurrences. He moved with his family to the Ann Arbor area in 1999 at the age of 13, and following his unstable upbringing, he entered his teenage years determined to grow beyond his childhood and participate actively in his new community, and sought out opportunities to educate himself on the world around him.
“I was adopted into a white family, and not all of them were very nice to multiracial people. I was always picked on for who I was, but that made me wiser and stronger about talking to people in certain ways.”
– Juan Castro
He claims proudly his occupation as a cook, cashier, inventory manager, and overall go-to guy at Back Room and Brown Jug, the latter of which is connected to and owned by the former. Employed by the business for nearly a decade, he’s a friendly face and helpful hand to every one of his fellow employees, many of whom see him as a dear friend beyond the bounds of the coworker status. Even I myself, a bartender at The Brown Jug, have friends outside of the business who have also become friends with Juan, simply due to his warm, good-natured personality towards everyone he meets. To put it simply, when you first meet Juan, you become somebody to him.
Finding Community
He has a great memory of faces, so it’s not unheard of for him to offer greetings, hugs, or extra batches of his famous breadsticks to customers he’s seen around his friends before (my old sorority sister, never once employed by The Brown Jug, asks to say hello to Juan every time she comes in). He’s known to extend drives home to those in need, be it a close friend or acquaintance, even if it means traveling thirty minutes out of his way at three in the morning when the restaurant closes up. When a server leaves to go home after their night shift, he always asks if they need somebody to walk to their car with, and if the answer is no, he makes sure they text him when they are safe.
“I like to protect the people close to me. I was raised by only my sister and mom; I didn’t have a dad. That taught me how to protect family and friends more.”
– Juan Castro
He loves his motorcycle, hanging out with friends, and frequently attending Michigan Athletics events. On his days off, he enjoys spending time with his nieces and nephews and playing for the local Ann Arbor street soccer team, occasionally joining in on cross-country travels with fellow members to watch other games. This particular team, an organization in a chain of many other major cities across the U.S., is part of a league known as Street Soccer USA, and recruits players that are specifically experiencing homelessness, mental illness, or post-incarceration living.
Juan has a personal connection to this team, as he found himself without a home nearly twenty years ago, and needed a community for support when he thought he was alone. In 2004, a sequence of misfortunes and economic hardships left him without residence at the age of nineteen. Still, he didn’t consider himself completely out of wealth; he states that he rather did not have enough for stable housing. Because of this, agencies and groups in the Washtenaw County area yielded either little help, or excluded him from their resources.
“When I was homeless, I needed help through programs, there weren’t many resources at that time. Here, they want you to be “down-down” to get help. When I went to get help, like Section 8 housing, they needed you to be struggling to get help, but I wanted help before I started struggling! So, I kind of found help on my own; I didn’t wanna get to that bottom point.”
– Juan Castro
Giving Back
Logging constant hours working and gaining funds, along with creating a network of friends going through similar struggles, Juan was able to once again find housing some time later. This story of winning the battle, overcoming extreme circumstances, drove Juan’s aspirations of helping the community around him, as they had once done for him. His outreach is evident today, expanding far outside of the Ann Arbor area and weaving through groups close to campus. On a certain night closing Back Room when I first started at The Brown Jug, I watched Juan leave out boxes of leftover pizza on the patio tables. When I asked him about this, he explained that he knows of many homeless people, some whom he knows personally, and their habits to roam that particular area late at night. He feels a sense of gratitude to be able to give back to those who are in a situation he was once in as well, and doesn’t mind if he has to pick up the boxes in the morning. It’s what he hopes somebody would do for him if he were to ever be in their shoes again.
Juan studied at Washtenaw Community College, pursuing education in a subject that he holds very close to him. As mentioned before, his adolescent years and the life experiences he has since carried with him prompted his decision to enroll in classes that he could apply in everyday circumstances. A desire to help children and promote healthy familial relations landed him as a student in the Social Work program. He cites his satisfaction in pursuing this, and believes his schooling has contributed to his efforts in the community.
“I went to school because of my life growing up. I went to college for social work, and I wanted to help kids out. They should be raised to have a good life, instead of the same way I was raised.”
– Juan Castro
Juan is an active supporter of children’s organizations, avidly networking and raising money for local chapters he’s close to. His niece, a young Girl Scout member, has about two dozen orders of Thin Mint cookies to fulfill for just the staff at The Brown Jug. This is thanks to a sign-up sheet Juan places on the bulletin board every year so that his coworkers can help in collecting funds for the little girl’s troop. He also donates to nearby charities, giving as much time and resources he can outside of his job. Programs tied to Ann Arbor Public Schools, autism support networks, and even sorority and fraternity fundraisers are a few favorites of his, yet despite this list of what would appear as a wide range of contributions, he still states that he wishes he was able to do more.
Local Optimism
The Ann Arbor community is a bright, diverse intertwining of various backgrounds, and is regarded as one of the most progressive cities in the Midwest with its accepting social and political climates. There is a place and inner-community for every resident and visitor who wishes to find others like them, including LGBTQ+ clubs, cultural societies, and niche interest organizations. Different neighborhoods have different atmospheres, one of which Juan is a frequenter of. The downtown area spans across four separate districts, Kerrytown, Main Street, South University, and State Street, and a stroll around the streets might include walking by an expensive restaurant like The Chop House five minutes after passing a soup kitchen. There’s an array of establishments, and like the soup kitchen mentioned, not all are catered to tourists and steak-seeking locals.
Juan, a fan of sports, motorcycle rides to Detroit, and getting his hands dirty if the occasion arises, is undeterred by the stereotypes spread by visitors of Downtown Ann Arbor, who praise the flashy lights and exquisite storefronts as the primary assets to the neighborhood. He has the inside look on the scene, having lived here before most of those he encounters. Juan knows the park on Liberty Street that has food delivered on Friday’s for people experiencing homelessness, the blocks that tourists stay away from at night, and of course, the best stretches to play street soccer on. Yet, despite the wide scope of personalities and attitudes that inhabit the area and travel to, Juan holds no reservations towards any which one.
“The Ann Arbor community is very friendly and diverse. I’ve lived in Dexter since ’99, which is still Ann Arbor, by the way, and there’s a lot of opportunities out here in the whole area … Like, there’s the Necto area that has more homeless people, but there’s tourists as well … There are opportunities for everyone, equally. Even felons or homeless people can get jobs. ”
– Juan Castro
Having taken advantage of these opportunities himself, he has an abundance of advice to give for anyone who seeks it. Community members like Juan are valuable for their wisdom, guidance, and companionship, not just in hard times, but in good times as well. There’s an Instagram video that circulates around The Brown Jug crew often, and it’s a humorous clip of comradery between Juan and, oddly enough, the Michigan Hockey team. As the team members exit the Yost hockey rink after a triumphant win, viewers can hear one player shout, “Somebody call Juan!”, followed by cries of fervorous demand. As Juan explains it, the team, who he’s grown close with over the years despite not being a student or 20-something himself, has a habit of contacting him after games to meet up for food and drinks at The Brown Jug. And for not being there, one would probably think the clip, posted to the official Michigan Hockey Instagram account, was misheard and misreported. Yet, as somebody who has had many experiences serving athletes at our popular college bar, I can confirm that the hockey players do come in, do sit down, and do ask for Juan – that is, if they haven’t already called him on their way over.
Positivity towards All
Juan’s coworkers, not one unfamiliar with his immense and intricate network of friends and associates, see his work and social life become one during every shift together. Servers run to him when something goes wrong, managers call him, even when he’s not at work, asking for solutions to problems only he would know how to handle. There’s a reason why his nickname is “Everything Juan” and an even better reason why he accepts this with gratitude, as he remembers times when nobody was there for him.
He’s a beacon of support when someone needs it most, the confidante you might only have known for a day. Those who know him can attest to messages of congratulations, sorrow, and gentleness received from him on every and any occasion. Juan is rarely heard speaking negatively on people or topics, only cursing or raising his voice for comedic effect and enthusiastic conversations. Positivity is what he preaches, and it’s a vital part to keeping him and his community intact.
“I think what I add to Ann Arbor most is keepin’ positivity around here! That’s what I’m all about. Helping out people when you can, not excluding or judging others. I get comfortable with everybody.”
– Juan Castro
The same people he sees out at one of his usual late-night destinations, Fleetwood Diner, might be the same people he sees in the alley behind Back Room looking for cans and other resources. In the same vein, a Michigan athletics coach giving an interview on TV, most likely broadcasted on the Brown Jug flatscreens, could quite possibly walk in to pick up a catering order as soon as he leaves the stadium. Juan encounters all walks of life, and gives care wherever he can. Understanding others is the first step, but many who seek this high level of compassion that Juan holds for humanity often find that they are unable to tread past this initial stride. Perhaps it’s because there’s another aspect to the task: the ability to empathize. Juan finds it easy to relate to people, given his myriad of insight he’s gained over the years, and hopes to spread his perspectives towards others.
“The legacy I’d like to leave is for everyone to learn to be positive toward everyone. Everyone should be treated the same! And if you don’t like someone, you don’t have to be disrespectful to them.”
– Juan Castro
In Practice
In the present, as the scent of another freshly prepared pie emanates from the oven, I watch Juan as he scrolls through photos on his phone of his favorite memories from the length of his time here so far. There’s a photo of him, clad in the usual game attire but additionally wearing a Michigan “M” hat. As soon as I ask him about this choice of attire, he grins proudly, explaining that for every tournament he goes to, no matter what state, he always wears something to show off his proud Wolverine roots, just to make clear who he’s representing. This is true, too. There’s a bit of maize and blue in every tournament photograph.
Juan cashes out another order as he concludes his interview with me, reminding me that if I have any questions or need more pictures, he’s just a call away. I gather my things and head to the door, which is surrounded by pictures of customers, employees, and even famous people that have been photographed inside of the restaurant over the years. There’s a realization that Juan probably has met or knows most of these people, and a second realization that he is on the wall many times himself. I end my gawking and say goodbye, and that I’ll probably see him on my next shift. He says goodbye as well, but not before offering a slice of veggie pizza, my favorite, for when I get home.
Works Cited
“Ann Arbor.” Street Soccer USA, 9 Nov. 2020, https://www.streetsoccerusa.org/ann-arbor/.
Castro, Juan. Homeless Street Soccer Festival.
Erica. “Interview with Juan.” 15 Feb. 2023.
Erica. Juan and Erica at The Brown Jug. 13 Dec. 2022.
Unknown. Homeless Street Soccer Festival. Philadelphia. 2016.
Unknown. Homeless Street Soccer Tournament. Philadelphia. 2016.
Unknown. Photo with Hunter Dickinson. Ann Arbor. 2023.
