In some ways, these op-eds and appearances are a predictable extension of the stump speeches told on the campaign trail over barbecue: The candidates typically share a story about a particular person who opened their eyes to a policy issue. They plug the plans they have to address that issue. Ruminate thoughtfully if a plan doesn’t exist. Validate. Empathize. Demand better.

But their careful choices of venue and subject matter aren’t just about affirming the concerns of some of America’s most vulnerable people. The columns in particular are filling a void in a flooded media landscape, where even mainstream publications are not covering subjects such as maternal mortality, the death of trans people, and rank inequality adequately. When these issues are addressed, they’re often framed in terms of singular incidents, rather than placed in the context of institutionalized racism. By putting op-eds in publications marketed to marginalized communities, candidates are addressing those populations directly and bringing broader awareness to their issues—potentially reaching audiences that have largely ignored both. By virtue of their star power, they are forcing a larger-than-typical group of Americans to pay attention. In this way, where the candidates choose to place their words is as important as what they have to say.

Read: Harris gains momentum with Democrats’ most important voter base

The stakes for the candidates cannot be underestimated. Black voters have a history of congregating around and collectively uplifting a single candidate, often functioning in primary races as kingmakers. For black voters, Barack Obama’s unlikely victory over Hillary Clinton in the 2008 Iowa caucus marked a huge turning point; it demonstrated that he could win, and helped solidify support among black voters in South Carolina. In similar fashion, black voters in Alabama propelled the Democrat Doug Jones into a Senate seat nearly a decade later. (Ninety-six percent of black voters, and more specifically, 98 percent of black women, supported him.)

“Political solidarity is not an innate characteristic of black America; it is a survival tactic that adverse experience has reinforced time and time again,” Theodore R. Johnson, a senior fellow at the Brennan Center for Justice, wrote recently in The Atlantic. “Black Americans have been made acutely aware that their individual fates are linked to the well-being of the whole group.”

It’s this dynamic that drives black voters to be deeply precise with their selection of candidates, and this time, an eventual matchup against President Donald Trump looms over the decision-making process. It’s still too early in the race to determine which candidate will garner the bloc’s support, but there seems to be greater competition for the black vote than has been seen in recent elections, and candidates seem desperate to make lasting connections that will endure through the primaries.