Bio

For a long time I had the above picture as a sticker on my fridge. As I understand the saying, it’s not about devaluing the work of cleaning, but about acknowledging the messiness of a life well lived.

Here are some of the things life’s messiness consists of for me:

In terms of work, since 2021 I’ve been a postdoctoral fellow in the Cultures of Critique Research Training Group at Leuphana University Lüneburg, where I previously wrote my dissertation. Since 2023 I’ve been a member of the steering committee of the Centre for Critical Studies and co-organise the Centre’s colloquium. My research interests include the history and theory of feminism, the politics of care, and feminist and materialist perspectives on law and justice. My CV and list of publications can be found here.

Throughout my life I have been a member of various reading circles and activist groups, mostly focused on feminism and/or prison abolitionism. At the moment I am part of the Gruppe Hausfriedensbruch. We analyse current policies on domestic and care work from a materialist perspective, organise events, speak at demos, etc.

I am the mother of a four-year-old who – I shit you not! – tells me every day that I am his “queen”. Let me tell you, playing out the Oedipal story with your eyes open is very strange. Well, with the abolition of the family still pending, I am trying to make the best of it, to let him down gently and to offer him other people of different genders to love besides me.

Many things in my life are organised cooperatively: from the vegetables I eat, to the community kitchen I contribute to, to the office I share, to the camper van I use to take the frustrated little prince, my partner and our friends and comrades to the seaside from time to time.

In my spare time I enjoy long solitary walks through Hamburg’s harbour, tailoring men’s clothes to fit my body, high-intensity interval running, reading novel after novel, listening to punk, pop and electro music, and chatting the night away in the wonderful bars of St. Pauli.

Because of all this, my house, both literal and metaphorical, is rarely clean and sometimes in serious disarray.

I take this as a sign of being alive.

And I write about it.