I was thinking about the Great Replacement ... the theory created by French White Supremacists in the early 1990s and carried forward by American White Supremacists in the Trump era.
Basically, white people are worried that our great-grandchildren won't be white.
I was thinking about this and it suddenly hit me that I don't care one fig what my descendants look like. Won't ever meet them, won't know them. The citizens of my country (if my country still exists in the 22nd Century) can be any color - black white brown yellow green blue teal mauve - it makes no difference to me.
I do hope that they have a livable world, where there is clean water and clean air and a fair legal system by which to redress grievances and ensure equal opportunity for all individuals. But beyond that: whatever they claim as their ethnic heritage means absolutely NOTHING to me.
Also ... going to go out on a limb here and say that I am not unique in this. I am absolutely positive that Joe Blow spouting "immigrunts gone replace us!" doesn't care either what Joe Blow XI born in 2103 looks like ... could be black as the ace of spades, but our Joe doesn't REALLY care. What Joe is worried about now is having all the stuff in his double-wide taken from him NOW - and that's where the Great Replacement really strikes home - "omigawd they're takin' our STUFF!"
I do find it rather amusing though, to imagine what our 22nd Century descendants will think as they read about us (if they are still reading anything by that time) - to think of all those mocha tanned humans reading about their white black and brown ancestors, wondering what all the fuss was about.
"Why were they so worried about it anyway?" they will say. "They all got together and had sex with each other anyway and that's why WE'RE all here."
And the last white kid will look at themselves in the mirror and dream of a distant mystical Norman Rockwell past ... and will sigh deeply with the existential loneliness.