Correcting the Record: Jared Villery’s journey from jailhouse lawyer to ARC Expungement Program Manager

By Josh Pynoos

The first thing you notice about Jared Villery is his suits. Each day, he wears a different color that shines in the California summer sun. He has thirteen suits in rotation, many of which are made of Italian cloth, featuring a range of lush colors. From afar, you might think he’s an investment banker or a Hollywood power player.

But Jared is neither of those things. And he used to wear a different uniform for over 20 years, prison blues.

Today, Jared serves as the Expungement Program Manager at ARC, where he leads an effort to expunge past criminal records. While in prison in 2022, Villery learned about a new law that had just passed in California that would begin expunging past criminal records, even for those with past felony convictions. Villery knew it would be a “game changer.”

“There had been a form of expungement on the books for decades,” he explained, “but it was only for misdemeanors and felonies or wobblers that could be charged as misdemeanors. Very few people ever qualified,” he said about the prior expungement laws.

Once he was released from prison in 2024, he began volunteering at the ARC Expungement Project, which assists individuals with past convictions in expunging their records through the courts, because of a law passed in 2022, SB 731.

Now, Villery serves as the Expungement Program Manager at ARC, leading the organization’s legal work and collaborating with over 1,000 members across California to clear their records through the courts.

To qualify for a felony expungement, a person must have been off parole or probation for at least two years without committing a new offense.

ARC hosts educational training and record-cleaning clinics across California. Recently, Villery partnered with the Mayor’s Office to hold legal education clinics across Los Angeles. Villery calls the new law a “hope builder,” allowing people to apply for jobs without background check barriers.

“I’ve spent a lot of time building collaborative relationships with public defenders and legal service groups, finding ways to get people across the finish line,” he says.

The law has shaped nearly every part of Villery’s life since at age 19, he was sentenced to state prison for a crime he didn’t commit.

Without the money or resources to fight his case, he decided to take control of his own future, “After my conviction, I said, I’m dedicating my life to the law.”

From inside Salinas Valley State Prison, Villery immersed himself in law books. He scraped together what little money he had to build a personal law library and taught himself the basics of the law, day by day. He began to fight his case on his own.

Handling litigation through the mail, he performed the work of a paralegal. With only a pen, paper, a Switec typewriter, and stamps, he created a makeshift “law office” in his cell and at the prison library. Soon, he earned the reputation of a “jailhouse lawyer”. Although Villery was unable to prove his innocence through the courts, he continued to provide legal assistance to others.

Though he lacked a formal degree, he gained something no law student could ever experience: the real-life impact of the law.

Villery’s first legal victory came through a federal civil rights action, in which he argued that CDCR staff had violated his constitutional rights, including his First Amendment rights and his access to the law library at the California Correctional Institution. He prevailed in the case and was awarded $20,000 in a settlement.

“It was my first big win. I was going against the full weight of the state, with no resources. I was preparing pleadings with pen and paper and a typewriter.”

During his incarceration, Villery prepared a wide range of legal filings, including appeals, complaints in state and federal court, writs of habeas corpus, and even divorce proceedings for other incarcerated people. Over time, he handled litigation in 12 of California’s Superior Courts, three of the state’s four Federal District Courts, three State Appellate Courts, and the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals. Not bad for someone without a law degree, any formal training, or even internet access.

“I’ve won at least four civil cases for other people’s cases involving excessive force and retaliation. My biggest thing was protecting the constitutional rights of other incarcerated people.”

Over the years, he built an impressive legal resume while incarcerated. But during his incarceration, he set an ambitious goal to become a lawyer upon regaining his freedom. While many incarcerated people study the law and even succeed in their own cases, few practice law upon regaining their freedom.

There are many hurdles and barriers ahead of him, but Villery saw it as an opportunity. “I’m really stubborn in a good way but I realized a long time ago that as long as I keep fighting for it, I will eventually achieve it,” he says about his journey from jailhouse lawyer to potentially earning a law degree one day.

In 2023, Villery was released from state prison through CDCR’s Male Community Reentry Program (MCRP). He was technically released from prison while still a prisoner in custody and spent the remaining 11 months of his sentence in the community in a transitional housing facility while still in custody.

He remembers the surreal feeling of suddenly being back in the community, but when he looked down, he saw an ankle monitor strapped to his leg. He was out of prison but still under the state’s control.

He recalls the strange mix of freedom and confinement, “Suddenly you’re back in the community, but I still had, in the back of my mind, this feeling of waiting for something, like waiting for a gun tower to start shooting. It was really a weird feeling.” Programs like the MCRP program create pathways from prison to the community while reducing the recidivism rate for those in the program.

Soon after, he was released from the transitional housing program and began searching for his own apartment. But he quickly felt the sting of his own felony conviction.

“The first thing a landlord or potential employer asks for is a background check,” he said. Jared’s own background led to numerous rejections and financial losses on rental applications. Eventually, Villery was able to secure an apartment after a lengthy search and a significant amount of money spent on rental applications.

Villery won’t be eligible for his own expungement until 2027, but he celebrates members reclaiming their careers and finally being free from the long-term weight of the criminal justice system.

Villery says he’s now helping people not just get jobs, but land in career fields, from cosmetology and barber licenses, and other professional fields that require professional licenses. He wears a suit to work every day because he knows first impressions matter. When representing himself and ARC, he wants to be seen as a professional.

Now he’s preparing to take the LSAT later this year and looks ahead to applying to law school, with the hope of attending Loyola Law School. He knows he will have to disclose his criminal history on his application, and the biggest hurdle will be the moral fitness evaluation required to pass the bar exam.

But he sees it as a challenge he can overcome. “The motto I live by is, ‘I either find a way or make one.’ If I have to blaze that path and be one of the first to do it, I will.”

Villery recalls the darkest moments of his incarceration, when he was just trying to survive: “I got stabbed inside, people were trying to take me out. There were many times I thought I’d never make it home alive.”

“I’m the perfect example of why ARC should exist, what rehabilitation and second chances mean, and what we can accomplish when given them,” he says.