The Validus Movement hoping to grow grassroots support in Kokomo
This article is brought to you by Ivy Tech Community College - Kokomo Region.
Landis Reynolds spent 21 years in prison. Sentenced as an adult when he was just a sophomore in high school, the Kokomo native had no idea he was entering a system that offered nothing to a minor incarcerated in an adult’s world.
“At the time I arrived at Wabash Valley Correctional Facility, it was one of the most violent prisons in the state of Indiana,” said Reynolds. “When I stepped through those doors, I didn’t know that I was going to be spending the next 21 years of my life incarcerated.
“I spent various amounts of time at different facilities, but no matter what facility I spent time at, the realities were the same. There were no resources. It was rife with violence, saturated with narcotics.”
Kayla Parker spent years seeking to reunite with her children after incarceration. She now advocates for others to help ease that process.
“When I went to jail, the hardest part about losing wasn’t spending time inside, it was losing custody of my children,” said Parker. “That pain is something that I can barely put into words. One day, I was their mom, their comfort, and their safe space, and the next day, I wasn’t.
“They were confused, scared, and suddenly surrounded by strangers, and I had to sit in a cell wondering if they cried for me, if they thought I left them on purpose.”
Parker thought she would get her kids back once she did her time. She was mistaken. She followed the rules, submitted to drug screens, and made her scheduled visitations and appointments, even when a lack of resources made it nearly impossible.
“I had to juggle appointments with caseworkers, classes, probation requirements, court hearings, all while trying to hold a job and trying to rebuild my life from scratch,” said Parker. “The truth is, none of these systems talk to each other. If probation wants one thing, CPS wants another. If the court said one thing, a caseworker would say something else, and I was the one stuck in the middle, trying to keep everything straight so I didn’t lose what little progress I’d already made.”
“You feel judged, observed, doubted, like you’ve ever loved your children at all, and all you want to do is hug them and reassure them that you’re still their mom. The system is not built for grace. It’s built for checking boxes, and it often feels like one mistake, one missed appointment, one misunderstanding can undo months of hard work. It feels like the system is waiting for you to fail.”
Now living in Valparaiso, Reynolds is affiliated with Validus, a movement based in Indianapolis that seeks to expand into Kokomo. The goal of the group is to support “justice-impacted” individuals who find themselves without support as they transition out of incarceration.
Speaking recently to a group of local citizens concerned about how the criminal justice system works, Reynolds credited his family and outside advocacy groups for his survival in prison and his eventual release.
“I had zero resources provided to me by the Department of Corrections, but there were grassroots organizations that supported my education,” said Reynolds. “They supported my growth. They helped me grow as a human being.
“By the grace of God, I had a strong support system. I was able to start a business while I was incarcerated that was able to assist in my transition. But, over the 20 years of my incarceration, there were so many of my good friends who didn’t have those resources. They didn’t have family. Guys who came in young and lost all their family during their incarceration, they went home to nothing.”
These people leave prison sober, motivated, and looking to live a law-abiding life, Reynolds explained. But they often find isolation, a lack of opportunities, and a demoralizing absence of resources.
“A person who, with the proper resources, would have succeeded ends up using again, reoffending,” said Reynolds.
The Validus team visited Kokomo in late December, seeking to organize a grassroots network of people willing to provide support to those struggling with life after incarceration. More than two dozen residents attended the meeting, hoping to learn more about the group. But first, they had to identify the problem,
Josh Riddick, one of the Validus founders, encouraged attendees to write on a sticky note the name of someone they know who is incarcerated. On a second note, they were asked to write what resource might have kept that person out of the system.
The list was a familiar one to anyone living on the edge of desperation; needed resources that keep people from having to make choices that end in prison. Mental health treatment. Addictions treatment. Recovery support. Housing. Employment. Connection. Intervention. Love.
“So much of our community has been robbed and plundered, and so much time has been stolen because basic stuff wasn’t provided to us,” said Riddick. “And it didn’t just disappear. It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a mistake. These things exist with intention.
“We don’t want more names falling out of our community. We don’t want more resources falling between the cracks. We want to build the kind of movement that has power. When we read people’s names, we want it to be because they’ve been helped and they’ve been healed and they’ve been cared for, not because they got put into a box.”
That is where Validus comes into play. According to co-founder Devin Rush, the organization seeks to build community where none exists, and it seeks to connect to individuals and organizations willing to provide the support currently lacking – before and after incarceration.
“It’s about what we have in common,” said Rush. “If we come together in unity and build a community that everybody needs, we can make a difference.”
Rush, a former convict himself, now advocates for people churning in the criminal justice system without a way out. He told the story of a young woman who was pregnant when she was incarcerated. At 22, she gave birth, was allowed two months out of prison to care for the child and then was placed back into incarceration. She sought sentence modification during a successful stint in work release.
“You have the judge, you have the prosecutor, you have the lawyer in there, and instead of the conversation being focused on how she’s been building herself up and how she’s been growing, what determined whether or not she was going to get this modification was her attitude or what she used to do for a living,” said Rush. “It was humiliating. It felt uncomfortable for me to hear a justice system that had that a part in this process of breaking people down.”
While not advocating for people to avoid paying for their crimes, Validus seeks to rebuild how the system works from the outside; building up those who are incarcerated; providing support; giving a second chance.
“Validus understands how hard the process is,” said Parker. “They understand how the system puts pressure on people who are already struggling. They understand how much strength it takes to rebuild your life while fighting to be reunited with your family.
“Validus believes in redemption. They believe in fighting for people, not against them. They believe families belong together, and that every parent deserves a chance to change, to grow and to come home.”
How this goal is reached is the challenge. The Validus Movement is seeking to build a system of restorative justice. According to Rush, that starts an invitation. Validus is seeking people working inside and outside of the criminal justice system who are willing to advocate for a change in how the system operates.
That involves one-on-one conversations and listening sessions so that people with resources or even the power to make change can hear how the system currently falls short. Once the common challenges are identified, Validus hopes to meet at a larger scale to help come up with solutions.
“In 2026, the call for a more compassionate and equitable justice system is louder than ever,” said Rush. “The Validus Movement stands at the forefront of this movement, shifting the focus from punishment to restoration. We envision a world where accountability is a bridge to healing, not a barrier to belonging.
“By centering the needs of those impacted and fostering radical empathy, we are reimagining what it means to make things right—one relationship at a time.”
A team of willing advocates is emerging in Kokomo, and a larger gathering is expected to take place in February. For more information about the Validus Movement, follow @validusmovement on Instagram.

