Last week, a series of thunderstorms caused parts of a tree to fall in my backyard. Faced with the possibility of another storm causing serious damage to my house, I decided to enlist the help of the neighborhood handyman (“John”) to scale the tree and cut a few tenuous limbs from the tree.

After finding John, he quickly agreed to cut the tree down for $50.00. Compared to the $200 price quotes that I had received from professionals, this was a steal. Without another thought, I jumped at the deal. Moments later, John was propping his rickety ladder against the tree, fully prepared to climb 25 feet in the air and start hacking away.

Here’s the problem.

John, to the best of my knowledge, is a drug addict. Although I’ve never seen him with a crack pipe or syringe in his hand, his behavior fits the pattern of the many drug abusers that I’ve known over the years: jittery behavior, inability to keep a steady job, always selling something that he “found,” begging for odd amounts of money (“You got $1.43 cents I can borrow?”), and, most important, willingness to do any and every job at bargain basement prices.

For years, I have paid John to clean, paint, mow, and lift anything that I didn’t feel like doing myself. Typically, he charges me $15.00 for any job, regardless of how long it takes to complete. Although I’ve always paid him $25.00 to ensure that he was receiving more than minimum wage, I’m still nagged by the idea that I’m exploiting him.

Clearly, if he were not on drugs, John would not clean my entire house for $15.00. Even if cleaning homes was still his career of choice, he would likely request a fee closer to the $50.00 per hour that many professional companies charge. Also, by giving him steady work, I am enabling a drug habit that severely undermines his health and life chances.

On the other hand, if people didn’t pay John for odd jobs, he would simply participate in illegal activities to satisfy his habit. I can’t help but think of Gator (Samuel Jackson) in Jungle Fever telling his mom that if she wouldn’t give him money, he would merely “knock some old lady in the head.” In a sense, consistent under-the-table employment is keeping the community safe and John out of jail. Besides, as an adult, doesn’t he have the right to spend his money however he wants?

Of course, these cannot be the only options. To believe that I must exploit John to save the community is to absolve myself of necessary guilt by ignoring my own self-interest. To believe the opposite is to hold onto a narrow moralism that acts against the best interests of the people, including John. Also, both choices fail to consider the more fundamental problem of crack-based economies and their deleterious effect on ghetto denizens.

After watching John struggle with the ladder and begrudgingly admit that he’d never climbed so high before, I told him “nevermind” and gave him $10.00 for his time. As he was leaving, John told me to call him if I needed anything. For the first time, I felt certain that I wouldn’t.

Does this help anyone? No. Will he still use drugs? Probably. Will other people still hire him? Certainly. Still, as someone who is actively fighting for a better world, I felt like I had to do something different. I don’t have all the answers, but I know that we must think beyond the ostensibly obvious choices in order to create new possibilities.