Since Substack includes polls these days, let’s kick off this edition with a low-stakes pop quiz, just for fun.
Years ago, when I gave my high school students an assignment (in French) to learn about the origins of the Olympic Movement, they were flabbergasted by the revelation that the Olympic rings represent “les cinq continents habités.” They had always been taught that there are seven continents, of which six are inhabited—but their French-language sources, along with the United Nations, were insisting that there were merely six continents, of which five were inhabited. What on Earth (literally) was going on?

I, too, recall being taught in elementary school that there are seven continents: North America, South America, Europe, Asia, Africa, Australia, and Antarctica. Then again, I also recall a textbook in which parts of Central America and the Caribbean were included neither on the map of North America nor on the map of South America, so it’s no wonder I developed some healthy skepticism about that count.

The seven-continent model is commonly taught in English-speaking countries and in many parts of Asia. As my students were discovering, however, a six-continent model, including a single American continent, is standard in Romance-speaking countries. Meanwhile, a different six-continent model—this one involving separate American continents but a combined Eurasia—is commonly taught in parts of Eastern Europe.
There has never been general agreement on the boundaries and nomenclature of the continents, especially in the Pacific. When Europeans began exploring Australia in the seventeenth century, there was a good deal of debate over whether it was part of Asia or constituted its own continent. These days, speakers of Romance languages generally consider Australia to be part of the continent of Oceania; some English speakers agree, while others view Oceania as a separate geographical region—or argue that there is an eighth continent called Zealandia.
Whether we are writing, translating, or teaching, we need to be mindful of the ways our characters, authors, or students have been taught to think about continents and regions. For example, a seemingly simple term, such as the Spanish adjective norteamericano, can refer to the North American continent or specifically to the United States—and when it pops up in a text I’m translating, it’s part of my job to figure out what it means to the person who wrote it.
A Humble Suggestion
In each newsletter, I’ll offer at least one recommendation for your reading, watching, or listening pleasure. This time around: a couple of Substacks of interest to readers and writers.
Poet and translator Robin Myers curates Poem Per Diem, a daily Substack consisting of a single poem in English or Spanish, covering a variety of styles and subjects. It presents a great opportunity to encounter poets whose work is new to you or to form a regular habit of reading poetry.
For two weeks starting June 17, author Jami Attenberg’s weekly CRAFT TALK newsletter (always enjoyable) plays host to her #1000wordsofsummer challenge. She provides pep talks and an infrastructure (via Slack) for community chat and accountability; you do your darnedest to write a thousand words per day, fourteen days in a row, and cheer on your fellow participants. While a paid subscription is not required, Attenberg donates all subscription fees for the month of June to charitable organizations.
Here, Look at My Cats
The world is a mess, and you might welcome a pleasant distraction. For what it’s worth, here are my cats.
Wishing you well on whichever of the indeterminate number of continents you may find yourself.
Laura
I find most of my students agree on the number of continents (naming them is a different story), but it is the number of oceans that has changed over generations. I learned four: Pacific, Atlantic, Indian, and Arctic. But now I’ve heard of an Antarctic Ocean as well. Unless students are just conflating it with the continent.