You've made me think about something I hadn't quite articulated until reading this. My grandfather used to make these weird comments about 'keeping neighborhoods nice,' and I always knew they were racist but couldn't quite put my finger on why they annoyed me so much more than just regular racism. This explains it - it's that he was never being honest about what he meant. He'd talk about property values and school quality, and yeah those things matter, but the actual thing he cared about was the demographic makeup. The 'niceness' he was defending wasn't about institutions or safety. It was about seeing people like him on the street.
What gets me about your essay is how much it applies to my own family. My wife's family came from Mexico in the '70s, and we have this weird thing where they'll say things like 'we're not like those new immigrants, we integrated,' while basically refusing to let their kids speak Spanish at the dinner table or marry outside. That's integration as erasure, and everyone knows it, but we all pretend it's something else. Something about naming it changes it.
But I don't know if naming it actually fixes anything, or if it just makes everyone angrier and more defensive. Maybe the dishonesty is a feature, not a bug - a way people can hold contradictory feelings without exploding. Maybe you can't build policy on 'I'm uncomfortable with demographic change.' So we don't say that. We say the other things instead, and pretend that's what we mean.