Here's one question – directed at Mitt Romney – that begs to be asked at Wednesday's first presidential debate in Denver, a demographically changing metropolis where more than 30% of the population is Hispanic:

"Poll after poll shows that you're way behind in attracting the support of Latinos, for whom immigration is a deeply personal issue. Latino voters are a critical voting bloc, especially in swing states such as North Carolina, Florida, and Colorado. If elected president, how will you make sure that you do not alienate the country's largest minority group?"

However substantive his response, Romney should at least refrain from calling people "illegal aliens".

Language matters, particularly regarding a combustible issue in which an action (illegal immigration) has long been conflated with a group of people ("illegals"). Actions are illegal, never people. Yet, when it comes to illegal immigration, a pejorative and dehumanizing term is casually used to inflame and isolate. "Illegal" oversimplifies and politicizes a complex issue that is wholly integrated in American life.

According to the Pew Hispanic Center, at least 17 million people are living legally in the US but belong in households with at least one undocumented immigrant. In other words, that "illegal immigrant" is a parent, a sister, or a cousin of a US citizen.

Romney is far from alone in broadly describing immigrants as "illegal" – many politicians, not to mention most in the mainstream media, including the New York Times, still use the term – but compared to President Obama, the difference is striking. In interviews, speeches, and on his campaign website, Obama almost always uses the more neutral term "undocumented immigrant".

This past summer, while announcing his plan to halt the deportation of undocumented youth and grant them a temporary reprieve via deferred action, Obama spoke of young people who are "Americans in their heart, in their minds, in every single way but one: on paper."

Contrast that with Romney who, since his first White House run five years ago, has interchangeably used "illegals", "illegal aliens", and "illegal immigrants". This is not purely semantic: Romney's choice of words and terms go in hand-in-hand with his policies. In November 2007, I sat in the press room during a CNN/YouTube Republican debate in St Petersburg, cowering in my seat when reporters spoke of "illegal immigrants" when the topic of illegal immigration came up. Publicly, I was a reporter for the Washington Post covering my first presidential campaign; privately, I was an undocumented immigrant with no valid green card who lived in fear of being found out.

Answering a question on illegal immigration, Romney, in an effort to out-right the other candidates, was quick to burnish his conservative credentials:

"Let me tell you what I did as governor. I said no to driver's licenses for illegals. I said, number two, we're going to make sure that those that come here don't get a tuition break in our schools, which I disagree with other folks on that one. Number three, I applied to have our state police enforce the immigration laws in May, seven months before I was out of office."

That answer flashed in my mind as I recently listened to Romney explain his immigration policies to viewers of Univision, the influential Spanish-language television network. Since coming out about my status last year, I've been trying to elevate how we talk about immigration in America as an openly undocumented journalist. I snagged a seat courtesy of Univision, which hosted the forum, and sat among a decidedly older and enthusiastic crowd, who I later learned was bussed in after the Romney campaign failed to attract enough young supporters to fill the University of Miami's BankUnited Center.

It was bad enough that Romney kept dodging a question on whether he would keep deferred action if elected president. Worse, in front of a largely Hispanic audience, just two weeks ago, the Republican candidate referred to undocumented youth as "illegal aliens".

When it comes to immigration, Romney has been on the wrong side of history – in words and in actions.

As his path to victory grows narrower, Romney is trying, without much success, to backtrack on some of his most extreme positions on immigration, an issue that is, arguably, second only to the economy among the country's growing Latino population. During the Republican primary, Romney promoted the unrealistic concept of "self-deportation" and strenuously opposed the Dream Act, but now promises comprehensive immigration reform if he reaches the White House. For months, Romney failed to answer if he would deport undocumented youth, but now says he would let them stay.

Flip-flopping aside, Romney has effectively erased whatever inroads the GOP made with Latinos under President Bush, a former governor of a border state who spoke compassionately about immigration. In 2004, capturing almost 45% of the Latino electorate was crucial to Bush's re-election. Romney will be lucky if he captures more than 30% on 6 November, particularly in swing states where Latino and other immigrant voters – first generation and naturalized Americans – could hold the deciding vote.

Figures from the non-partisan research group Immigration Policy Center (IPC) provide critical context in this regard. In Colorado, Latino and Asian voters made up a combined 10% of the voters in 2008 – some 243,000 people. That total, according to IPC, exceeded the margin of victory for Obama, who won Colorado by 214,000 votes. The same goes for Florida, an eternal battleground state. The combined total of the rising Latino and Asian vote in the Sunshine State (about 1.3 million) is way beyond Obama's margin of victory there in 2008 (236,450).

And the evolving story out of North Carolina, an emerging swing state, is especially revealing – and perhaps prescient. Though Latino and Asian voters comprised less than 3% of total voters in 2008 – 77,000 Latino voters and 43,000 Asian voters – that total far exceeds the margin of victory: Obama won the Tar Heel State by less than 15,000 votes. Polls show that Obama and Romney are in a tight race for the state's 15 electoral votes. Each vote will count, including first-time voters like 20-year-old Diego Camposeco.

Camposeco was born and raised in the small town of Burgaw, just outside Wilmington. He is the eldest of three children, all of whom are American citizens. A sophomore at University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill, he's majoring in journalism and art, and tells me that he pays close attention to news and politics – how Romney calls people "illegal aliens" and how the New York Times and the Charlotte Observer, the most influential paper in his home state, both use "illegal immigrants". Camposeco's parents, who crossed the Mexican border before he was born, do not have papers. An estimated 4.5 million US citizens have at least one undocumented parent.

"When the New York Times or NPR or other news organizations refer to people as 'illegal,' that's my mom, that's my dad you're talking about," Camposeco told me on the phone. He said he has other friends who are first-time voters whose parents are also undocumented. They plan to vote Obama. Though Obama has deported a record number of undocumented immigrants, he's a far better alternative than Romney, Camposeco said.

"When Romney says 'illegal' this, 'illegal' that, that's personal to me. That's my family you're talking about." Which begs two more questions.

First, when Margaret Sullivan, the public editor of the New York Times, writes that "Readers Won't Benefit if Times Bans the Term 'Illegal Immigrant'", which readers are she referring to? Clearly, not readers such as Camposeco, who finds the term offensive and degrading.

Second, when Romney interchangeably speaks of "illegals" and "illegal aliens", is he alienating an entire generation of young Hispanic and Asian voters – the very same voters at whom Peggy Noonan, the conservative columnist, marveled as she visited downtown Brooklyn "full of new Americans"?