Some 30 years ago when I was teaching in Avery County, a fellow teacher told me about an unforgettable experience from her childhood. She said that a flyer posted in a local grocery store offered $25 to families that appeared at a designated address in Blowing Rock on the following Saturday. She said that there was only one requirement: that they come “poorly dressed.” Since it was the Depression, many families made the trek to Blowing Rock where they discovered a “picture man” (photographer) who was looking for “local color” photos to illustrate a book on mountain people. He had located a mountain shack that served as a setting, and each family was posed in and around the decaying structure. They were photographed shoeless, ragged and smiling.

The proper word to describe this activity is “exploitation.” What adds depth to the shameful abuse is the fact that mountain people were unwittingly made accomplices in the crime.

Something similar happened when President Johnson brought his “war on poverty” to Appalachia. Some of the media folks not only sought out disturbing examples of poverty, they managed to “augment” them by suggesting poses or provocative settings. There were instances in which the victims reacted with bitterness and resentment when they realized how these images were being used. Their experience with the media made them cautious about talking to people with cameras.

Well, Shelby Lee Adams doesn’t fit the usual profile of a photographer who exploits his subjects. Born in Hazard, Ky., he is a familiar face to the subjects that he photographs. He also has an uncanny ability to capture a “frozen moment” and makes it memorable. (Much of his work reminds me of Diane Arbus.) Adams has been “discovered,” and exhibitions of his work are now in New York, London and Tokyo. At present, there are four volumes of his photographs available in bookstores and a film; “The Meaning of Pictures” is being shown in universities here and in foreign countries. There is just one problem. Shelby Lee Adams’ work has become controversial. To be specific, many people find his work “exploitative.” I am one of them.

Many of the images are deeply moving depictions of family devotion. Some capture expressions of hope and yearning in the faces of children and young couples — but in most instances, the subjects seem trapped in a web of abject poverty. They are doomed.

Adams seems to be fascinated by provocative subjects — grotesque faces disfigured by time, poverty and/or inbreeding; funerals; the enraptured faces of snake handlers; the disembowelment of a hog; people brandishing axes, knives and shotguns. All of these images embody the traditional stereotypes of Appalachia — the images that many of us disavow.

Shelby Lee Adams appears to be deeply hurt by these accusations. In the film, “The Meaning of Pictures,” he claims that he loves his neighbors and has a profound respect for them. Where his critics see the grotesque and bizarre, Adams sees nobility and the ability to endure. Some angry critics call his work “Appalachian Gothic;” defenders call it a courageous art.

Well, after looking at hundreds of images captured by Adams’ artistry, I have concluded the following, his intentions are good. While exploitation is not his purpose, he has unwittingly achieved it. As the old adage has it, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” What Adams sees when he peers through his camera lens is not what the world will see. Perhaps Adams sees a cruelly deformed girl clutching her retarded brother in an affectionate embrace — both of them staring raptly into the camera — as an image of childish affection. But, when that image is mounted in a New York Gallery, or when it is viewed by a Japanese businessman or a computer analyst in London, these people beyond Appalachia may see something else. They may see a validation of their worst prejudices — the hillbilly stereotype made real.

(Gary Carden is a writer who lives in Sylva. He can be reached at gcarden498@aol.com.)