The Life Lessons that Brought Jimmy Davis to Law School
Jimmy Davis' pursuit of a law degree after criminal past
When Jimmy Davis (JD, ‘27) was applying to law school, he received a series of rejection letters. One after the next, messages arrived in his inbox telling him the same thing: “We regret to inform you… After careful consideration… We are unable to offer you admission.”
“I couldn't get into any law school, including schools ranked in the bottom five. Even they wouldn’t accept me,” he said.
Because of a criminal record from 20 years prior, Jimmy almost didn’t apply to law school in the first place. He had grown accustomed to being rejected from jobs following cursory vetting processes informed largely by background checks. But two college professors at Clayton State University encouraged Jimmy to go after his dream, impressing on him that his future does not need to be defined by his past.
Then, the day after receiving his Bachelor of Science in Criminal Justice, he opened his inbox to discover a message from Cincinnati Law. The email offered Jimmy a deferred acceptance of one year, upon completion of a pre-law school program. Cincinnati Law was the highest ranked school Jimmy had applied to—and gave him scholarships that made moving to Cincinnati financially feasible.
“If it wasn't for that, I don’t know what I would have done. Maybe a graduate degree in creative writing?” Jimmy said.
It took a moment for the news of going to law school to sink in with his family. For the first time in their lives, he and his wife were preparing to leave their home in LaGrange, Georgia and move north, toward the possibility of a stable career.
Jimmy’s first conviction was for a gas drive-off on his seventeenth birthday, the legal age of adulthood in Georgia. Earlier that year, his father had been arrested, and while he lived with his grandmother, he was teased relentlessly when classmates found out. His high school principal even called Jimmy’s friends into his office to warn them he was white trash and they should distance themselves from “people like him.” Not long after, Jimmy dropped out of high school. Education could come later, he thought.
“Living in a small town in Georgia, they really don't forgive you for being a high school dropout with misdemeanor convictions. I could not even get a job bagging groceries,” he said. “I knew what I was doing was wrong, but at 17, I had no idea I would still be facing the consequences years later when I was trying to raise my kids.”
Four years later, he fell in love with his future wife, Jackie, and became a father. Struggling to make ends meet, they worked long hours at low wage jobs and counted on family to provide daycare for their two daughters.
How are you supposed to feel equal when everyone involved in the system is already assuming you're not worthy of it?
Jimmy Davis (JD, ‘27)
In most cases, after an arrest Jimmy would arrive unrepresented in court, plead guilty, and accept the penalty. Once, his grandmother, who both adopted and raised him, pitched in to pay for a lawyer. It was a wake-up call for Jimmy.
“The lawyer told my grandmother in front of me that she was wasting her money,” Jimmy recalled. “He said that when kids like me come in, they'll end up in prison again in two years.”
“How are you supposed to trust the system?” he continued. “How are you supposed to feel equal when everyone involved in the system is already assuming you're not worthy of it?”
Over the years, that moment with his lawyer nagged at him. He thought if he were a criminal defense attorney, he would serve his clients better. Young adults who came to him for help might even find their way out of the system, instead of getting caught up in it for years—the way he had.
“I want to catch them before they get institutionalized. Young people shouldn't have their lives ruined before they can understand the mistakes they are making,” he said. “The best gift you can ever give someone is to believe in them.”
Jimmy was arrested for the last time in 2002, 10 months before his son Vincent was born. The charges were in Texas, twelve hours away from his family. Facing a possible felony conviction and expecting his first son, something had shifted in Jimmy for good.
“I knew I would need to show him what a man is 24-hours a day. That’s when I started cleaning up my life,” he said. “I got here by trying to be the father Vincent needed. But he ended up being the son I needed.”
In a moment no parent is ever prepared for, six days into his virtual pre-law program, Jimmy discovered his son Vincent had died unexpectedly in their home. Knowing that the person who inspired him to turn his life around would not be there to see him succeed made him question if any future would be worth pursuing, let alone earning a JD.
Every day since, Jimmy has made an active choice not to succumb to the enormous grief he still feels. In large part due to the support of his wife and daughters, he is able to wake up every day and continue his path in search of a larger purpose.
“I can't allow my daughters to see a quitter,” he said. “I see there's bigger work to do, and if I don't do it, who's going to?”
I see there's bigger work to do, and if I don't do it, who's going to?
After all the hardship he has been through, today Jimmy finds inner peace not through money or success, but by being in service to others. He has found that in law school by participating in the Ohio Innocence Project (OIP).
“I found the only way you can experience true happiness is to go out and help someone who needs it, not possessions or self-gratifying behaviors,” he said. “I don't think there's a single program at Cincinnati Law School that personifies that more than the Ohio Innocence Project.”
The same experiences that almost kept Jimmy from getting into law school are what give him a perspective as an OIP fellow that no other classmates can bring to understanding those wrongfully convicted.
Most of our clients at OIP have backgrounds similar to me, or even worse. They had even less resources, even less people to help, love, and believe in them. And because of that, there are so many bad convictions,” he said. “Just because people are in jail, even if they are guilty, it does not give you one clue to their character.”
Now entering his 3L year, Jimmy said that some of his greatest learning experiences have come not only from classes he expected to enjoy like family and juvenile law, but also property and contracts. The school’s academic rigor, in addition to the community he has found while at law school, has kept him motivated when his grief feels too heavy.
“When I'm at the law school, it's a refuge from the pain I'm going through outside of here,” he said. “The school cares – the teachers, the faculty. And even though there's a big age gap, my classmates have been supportive. I love everyone at the school like they are family.”
At the end of his interview, Jimmy quoted Trade unionist and former Indiana State Representative, Eugene Debs, who said: “For myself, I want no advantage over my fellow man, and if he is weaker than I, all the more is it my duty to help him.” This quote serves as a reminder to Jimmy, and encourages him to put his burdens aside in order to stand up for those who have less. As he approaches graduation and prepares for a career as a criminal defense attorney, service to others is where his focus lies. While he’s been a fighter his whole life, he’s ready for the fight that's ahead, so long as it means defending others’ rights.
“They say you shouldn't give out free legal advice and I'm going to do the exact opposite. I do not care if I’m the poorest lawyer to ever work,” he said. “The law should be for any and everybody.”
Want to learn more about our students and their journey to (and through) law school? Read more stories on the "Meet Our Students" page. See yourself at Cincinnati Law!
Author: Bachmeyer Press
Photographer: Asa Featherstone IV
Get to Know Cincinnati Law
Class Profile for Incoming Class of 2028
- 137 enrolled
- Median LSAT: 159
- Median UGPA: 3.80
- 60+ Colleges & Universities represented
Affordability
- 95% of the student body received renewable scholarships with amounts ranging from $2,500 to full tuition
- In-State tuition: $24,010
- Non-Resident tuition: $29,010
- Cincinnati Law boasts one of the lowest debt-upon-graduation rates in the nation
Experiences
- 7 Clinics
- 6 Centers
- 4 Legal Journals
- 40+ student organizations
- 8:1 student-to-faculty ratio