Above all, Louise Vincent advocated for dignity. And therefore it is with the highest esteem, and the saddest of hearts, that the National Survivors Union and the North Carolina Survivors Union announced the passing of Executive Director, Louise Beale Vincent. She is survived by a whole huge community that fucking loves her. And will never forget. And we send our love to her partner Don Jackson who was always by her side.
Donations in her memory can be made here: https://www.ncsurvivorsunion.org/donate
Read the National Survivors Union announcement and see NC Survivors Union Facebook page for updates.
An internationally recognized advocate for people who use drugs, Louise was feisty and brilliant. She was the friend you always wanted in your corner. But when you invited her in, you best be ready to hear the hard truths that nobody else would utter.
She started her formal work in harm reduction under the wing of Thelma Wright, another North Carolina legend. Sterile syringes prevent HIV infection, and Louise’s organization has stopped untold thousands of transmission events through distribution of sterile injecting and smoking equipment. She created services to help people who use drugs or are engaged in sex work to get free hepatitis testing and treatment. But most of all, she gave them a place where they were treated as equals, without judgement, no matter what.

After the loss of her daughter Selena, she redoubled her efforts to distribute naloxone. The stockpiles that she and Don procured went freely out the door to other programs in North Carolina, during a time when distributing the life-saving antidote to people who use drugs was still heavily stigmatized.
During the coronavirus pandemic, not only did she and Don keep the exchange on Grove Street open, they expanded capacity to provide services meeting the moment of demand. During this frightening and isolating time, Louise summoned the leaders of drug user activism from around country to North Carolina to rekindle camaraderie and hear the stories that could not be told via computer.
Damn, she told a good story. And she helped others find their voice. Through her narcofeminisim storytelling circles, she created a space for women to share intimate, harrowing tales of their experiences in the War on Drugs, stories that would never have otherwise been heard. Yet, these were circles of support and healing, in a manner that had never been done before.
In this way, and others, Louise was a relentless innovator. She pioneered the use of canned oxygen to assist in rescue breathing for overdose reversal, and to calm people who had taken more stimulants than they could handle. She was willing to try anything to give people who use drugs an inch more autonomy, a mile more dignity.
About a decade ago, she found her passion by going beyond direct services. In the face of an increasingly institutionalized harm reduction movement, Louise was incensed that the rights and dignity of people who use drugs were being ignored. When she joined the National Survivors Union (then known as USU - Urban Survivors Union), she brought a whole new level of energy to the nascent movement. Through nurturing by Robert Suarez, Becky Brooks, Isaac Jackson, Shilo Jama, and Mark Kinzly, drug user organizing became a reality in the United States.
Her influence was felt beyond Greensboro. A national action on drug user organizing came in the form of the Reframe the Blame campaign, a searingly convincing toolkit to push back against drug-induced homicide laws.
She was honored as the recipient of the inaugural Dan Bigg Award for ground breaking activists at the 2018 National Harm Reduction Conference. Afterwards, she didn’t rest. She could never sit still when so much work was left to be done, so many people to reach, and while she was facing yet another institution that trampled the dignity of drug users.





Receiving the Dan Bigg Award in 2018 with Mark Kinzly, Karen Stanczykiewicz-Bigg, and Greg Scott. Source: Nigel Brunsdon
Deeply unsettled by her experiences getting treatment, she advocated tirelessly for methadone reform, rattling the cage until the system finally started to recognize patient agency. She co-authored the hugely influential Methadone Manifesto, that actually led to tangible national policy changes.
She was an advocate for the dignity and rights of people with disabilities and chronic pain, even before she lost her leg in a motor vehicle accident. In recent years her health suffered from exposure to xylazine. She bravely and publicly told her near-death story to show others they needed to be careful. She was responsible for catalyzing the first drug checking service in the South, the first run by a drug user union. Throughout these life changes, Don has been a constant companion who always put Louise’s needs first.

Along the way, Louise earned a Masters in Public Health degree. “Love is a research value,” Louise was fond of saying. She stood up to researchers, making them treat her and her staff with dignity, and equal pay. This stance, picked up by others in the drug user advocacy movement, led to a sea change in how people who use drugs are included and compensated in NIH research studies.
But any measure of Louise’s impact cannot convey the personal impact she had on those of us whose lives she touched. Yes, she was an inspiration. But she also showed up when she wanted to, always demanded we do more, and never hid her feelings. Through the fallings-out and reconciliations, somehow our respect for her only grew. And in this moment of her passing, we ask you to remember her with dignity. Please help her work continue with a donation, or any other support of NSU or the North Carolina Survivors Union. Above all, STAND UP for the values she showed us. And show Don some love!
Donations to keep Louise’s work going: https://www.ncsurvivorsunion.org/donate