Bryan “Luv” Jordan (center with fellow activists Greta LaFleur and Nancy Peters) lobbying for Senate Bill 503 at the State Capitol on May5. EMILIA OTTE/CT MIRROR PHOTO Bryan “Luv” Jordan had proof to offer when he told a young suicidal Bridgeport man that you can find purpose in life a fter prison. The proof: Jordan’s own life. He spent 20 years in prison before successfully fighting — twice — for freedom. He has spent his first year of freedom pursuing a purpose: helping formerly incarcerated people like the Bridgeport man reenter society with a path to a productive life. And to help more long-term incarcerees find freedom. Jordan spoke about that work — and about how his prison journey following a 45-year first-degree manslaughter conviction informed it — during a conversation Thursday on WNHH FM’s “Dateline New Haven.” He pursues his prison reentry work through two paying jobs: As a lead research fellow with Yale Law School’s Justice for Everybody Movement under the direction of Professor Elizabeth Hinton. And as a “reentry navigator” with Yale’s Dwight Hall. A man who entered prison illiterate is now writing papers and drafting laws and testifying before the legislature on behalf of Yale; and helping ex-offenders like the Bridgeport man through the Dwight Hall job. Jordan, who is 48, also pursues that work on a volunteer basis through two nonprofits: a group he cofounded and runs called Guided by Purpose Initiative and a lobbying group called the Coalition for Communal Healiing Through Justice Reform. He joined other members in lobbying state lawmakers in this year’s session to pass a law, SB 503, to allow inmates serving decade-plus terms for crimes they committed before the age of 26 (when they reach full brain development) to apply for earlier parole. (The current maximum age for that option is 20.) Championed by New Haven State Sen. Gary Winfield, the bill passed the State Senate on April 28 but died in the House. An Education Behind Bars Jordan grew up in New Haven’s Newhallville neighborhood as well as other parts of town, moving around because his mother battled drug addiction. He quit school after eighth grade to sell drugs to support his younger sister, he said. On Sept. 19, 2005, he ended up in an argument with other dealers at the McConaughy Terrace public-housing complex. Someone fired a gun — someone else, he said. A bullet hit a man named Curtis Hannons in the head, killing him. Jordan said he pulled out a gun and fired in the direction of the original shot, after Hannons had fallen. He fled to Georgia, where marshals eventually arrested him. The state charged him with firing the fatal bullet based on a case put together by Det. Clarence Willoughby, who would later be accused of pressuring and threatening witnesses and corruptly handling other cases. With no physical evidence to prove that charge, Jordan figured he’d win at trial. He figured wrong.  He was sent to McDougall-Walker Correctional Institution in Suffield. His grandfather Arthur Davis was there, too. Davis had been there since 1966 on a multiple-murder conviction. Like many other inmates, Davis would be there the rest of his life. Jordan resolved he would not spend the rest of his life behind bars. “I remember looking out the window and asking myself: What do you do with a life sentence? “Because I didn’t know. So I was just kind of watching what people did. Some play cards. There’s guys doing pull-ups. There’s push-ups. There’s gambling. There’s drugs. There’s gang banging. “And right there  —  I know it sounds crazy  — I said, ‘There’s absolutely no way that I’m buying into this. I’m not finding a way to to just live in here.’ I was seeing people have created community in there, and they found ways to live. They had businesses. I was just like: No, I couldn’t do it.” But he didn’t know how he would get out. His first clue came from an iname named AJ. AJ sat at a table with books. Nobody bothered him. He constantly read. He was a jailhosue lawyer. AJ told Jordan he’d never be free unless he learned to read. So Jordan signed up for a literacy course taught by … grandfather Arthur (known in the prison as Sheik Muhammad). He fell in love with books by James Baldwin, Angela Davis, bell hooks. Meanwhile, AJ taught Jordan how to research legal cases, how to write and submit briefs and motions. Jordan began submitting his own briefs and motions, sometimes on his own, eventually with the help of attorneys. He filed a writ of habeus corpus arguing that his attorney failed to represent him properly — by failing to put on the stand six witnesses who said that Hannons was already shot dead before Jordan pulled out and fired his weapon. (Willoughby allegedly failed to forward that testimony to the prosecutor.) The next year Jordan was released on bail — which required raising $42,000 from supporters including the Connecticut Bail Fund. He was free. But only for two years. The state appealed the judge’s ruling. It argued that because Jordan’s trial attorney had died, there was no way to know why she never called those witnesses, so it can’t be determined if she failed to make the right call. Crushed, Jordan returned to prison on Dec. 27, 2021. He resolved from day one to fight again to get out. He and an attorney convinced a prosecutor to a deal in which Jordan’s sentence would be reduced so that he could be released on time served. That happened May 5, 2025. Jordan returned to New Haven and got busy helping other ex-offenders. Revising Reentry The reentry work he has done so far has convinced him that the system could use tweaking. Specifically, it needs an emphasis not just on financing programs to help ex-offenders find jobs and housing, but also on sustained one-on-one personal coaching and emotional advice. He points to the example of the young Bridgeport man who’d been suicidal. Jordan succeeded in putting together a plan for the man to enter a construction job training program. More importantly, he talks to the man regularly when he calls just needing to talk. “He calls all the time,” Jordan said. “I tell him, ‘I’ve also been there. I’ve been when I couldn’t see if it’s worth tomorrow, and some people look to me and say, It worked out.’ “That’s reentry. The services are great, [but] I disagree with a lot of how how reentry is done. Some of this you can’t put a financial element to it.” Translation help is needed, too. Last month he was assigned to help a 71-year-old Bridgeport woman who got turned down for a subsidized senior apartment because of a 40-year-old felony conviction. “She’s still in reentry” and at risk of homelessness, he observed. But he couldn’t help her — because he couldn’t speak Spanish. Nor could his colleagues. Jordan has reached out to New Haven activist Lee Cruz to help him find a translator. Among other plans: To work with colleagues to convince both houses of the legislature to pass a version of SB 503 in the next session. A major part of the “restorative justice” reentry process includes taking responsibility for one’s own mistakes, Jordan said: In his case, even though he didn’t fire the fatal bullet, he did make mistakes by engaging in crime and in fleeing the state, he said. Overall, he said, his experience has taught him that even in your late 40s, you can find a purpose in life after decades lost to incarceration. Click on the below video to watch the full conversation with prison reentry activist Bryan “Luv” Jordan on WNHH FM’s “Dateline New Haven.” Click here to subscribe or here to listen to other episodes of “Dateline New Haven.” The post Post-Prison 2nd Chance Plants A Purpose appeared first on New Haven Independent. ...read more read less