When Brandon Huntley made headlines with his appeal for asylum ? based on his perception that, as a white South African, he was persecuted ? the issue of race raised its ugly head.

An issue that usually simmers quietly under the surface, burst out like an ugly rash. Racist slurs, accusations and counter-accusations were bandied across cyberspace, sullying, not only our particular website, but also the non-racial ideal that most South Africans hold so dear.

The iafrica.com team decided that this would be a good time to start a constructive conversation around the issue of race. Not one that would degenerate into racist vitriol, but one that allows each of us to engage constructively with our own understanding of race and, in doing so, to better understand our fellow South Africans.

We invite you, dear readers, to take part.

The iafrica.com team has kick-started the conversation. If, once you have read through their contributions, you feel like joining in, please mail us (and we'll publish what you have to say) or post something constructive at the bottom of the article. We don't particularly want to hear about what you think of 'others', we want to know what you think about your place in South Africa.

Rebekah Kendal:

Brought up in a liberal household, I have always held strongly to the belief that race plays no role in my perception of others. That, in my heart of hearts, I believe all people are equal and treat all equally. For the most part, this is true.

But to pretend that race doesn't matter, that it doesn't shape our interactions is rather naive. Like it or not, race shapes not only our perceptions of others, but also our perceptions of ourselves.

It took a trip to the UK for me to truly understand this. The reality ? up until this point, merely theoretical ? that white people are not always the minority group made me realise that I had internalised all that comes with being a minority in South Africa ? the guilt, the shame, the inherited sense of superiority. Recognising this has enabled me to be more honest with myself and with others.

But, a trip overseas also made me realise that, above all, I am an African. A South African. And a little melanin deficiency isn't about to change that.

Zunaid Ismael:

If you've grown up under apartheid it's hard not to think in terms of black and white. If you were denied access to certain areas/events because of the colour of your skin, it's hard not to think in terms of black and white.

If you were involved in the struggle for equality in South Africa it's hard not to think in terms of black and white.

I do think in terms of black and white. I can't help it. It's hard not to when you've grown up with having to sit in third-class train carriages or had to go to the 'Coloured Affairs' department for your ID documents.

But I don't hold a grudge. South Africa, for me, has changed for the better. Maybe that's because I was able to jump on a first-class train carriage or because I was able to go to a school in a tree-lined suburb, I don't know.

I do know that while I may still think in black and white, I am also tolerant and respectful of my fellow South Africans. I would not want to revisit the racism that apartheid forced on South Africans on any one else. I've been there. We've been there. It's unjust.

While I don't expect racism in South Africa to just disappear overnight (three hundred years of slavery and racism is a long time), we have come too far since 1994 to slip back into that apartheid mindset.

Ryan Bubear:

I am a white, English-speaking South African male, born to parents originally from the United Kingdom.

I do not take any particular pride in nor feel any shame about being white, since the colour of my skin is not something over which I had any control. And for that very reason, it is not something that should matter at all.

I don't see race as an important characteristic when dealing with others. In fact, I feel strongly that racial classification is something our country needs to move on from. Yet I remain apprehensive about how my children, as products of a so-called 'bi-racial' relationship, will be received when they one day enter this world.

Despite my opening paragraph, I do not define myself in terms of my race. And despite the fact that I know that my race sometimes influences people's opinions of me, I ascribe to it no more weight than the colour of my eyes.

I am a white, English-speaking South African man. But simply calling me 'a South African' would be a far better description.

Mbulelo Ngwevela:

Race matters to me. In a country that's still healing from one of the sickest governmental systems the world has yet to see ? everything revolves around race. I may not have suffered the injustice that my parents did under the rule of apartheid but I'm a by-product of it. But thankfully, through education, I consider myself to be mentally free of this. I've interacted with my fair share of people of other races, have been raised with some and I now know and understand what it means to be a victim of circumstance. People are the way they are because of their backgrounds and how they've been raised.

I may vent, kick and scream when a racial situation arises or I can choose to keep quiet and walk away with a smile on my face because of the irrelevance of the situation. Race matters to me because there's nothing right about any form of inequality.

Being black means a lot of things to me. Freedom and revolution. Black people across the world have suffered injustices purely because of their skin colour. I admire the mind and human strength of black people across the world. Physical labour, physique, characteristics, our voices, our song, our ability to make something out of nothing, our ability to work with and make the most of what we have, our strength of character, our faith, our spirituality, our ability to not only sympathise with each other but to empathise, our beauty... the list is endless.

uBuntu says it all: respect where I deserve it and have given it to others. As Steve Bantu Biko said: "Black man you are on your own".

Peter Murison:

How many people, still today, start by defining themselves by the colour of their skin?

The facts are, I suppose, that I am a white, English-speaking South African male (I've got blue eyes and brown hair too if that is important?). The truth, however, is that race is never the first characteristic by which I describe myself. How do I describe myself? Well funny enough, I usually start with size? I'm a big guy! (Not self conscious at all).

Of course, race does remain a major issue in modern day South Africa, affecting how people react to each other, their views on individuals and even how they feel in certain situations ? to think otherwise would be silly.

But personally, race, as a topic, means very little to me. Are some races naturally quicker/stronger than others? Do some cultural/regional communities seem to be more pre-disposed to understanding technology than others? Is one gender perhaps more naturally suited to manual labour and another to child rearing? Probably ? but everyone is different. Everyone can be an exception, and that's how I would like to be viewed ? not by the norms or the stereotypes.

I've always held the (somewhat) obscure belief that you cannot blame someone for being xenophobic (and by that I mean simply the socially constructed fear of something different), but you can hold them to account for the actions they take towards people because of those irrational fears.

Black, white or coloured, I'd like people to put their fears aside wherever possible and focus on the individual.

Read more on page two!

Do you have something to say? Mail us your thoughts and, if they match the tone of the conversation, we'll publish them!