For decades, Jeanne Hynes saw dolls as more than just toys. To her, they were storytellers — silent but powerful symbols of culture, history and identity. Through her extensive collection of around 2,000 dolls — representing different ethnicities, sizes and cultures, with nearly 1,000 of them reflecting the African diaspora — she sparked conversations about race, inclusion, creativity, and human connection.
Now, after seven years of searching for the right place, her daughters have chosen to donate her collection of Black dolls to the Minnesota Spokesman-Recorder (MSR), ensuring that her mission of education and representation continues for future generations.
Hynes’ journey as a doll collector began after she and her husband adopted their biracial son, Daniel. Wanting him to see himself reflected in the world around him, she made sure one of his first toys was a Black G.I. Joe action figure. This early decision sparked what would become a lifelong dedication to collecting dolls from across the world, especially those representing the African diaspora.
Over the years, she used her collection to engage in conversations about race, identity and representation. She carried these conversations into her work as an educator, special needs tutor, and activist.
Her passion led her to become a member of the Twin Cities Black Doll Collectors Club, where she built lasting friendships, including with fellow educator and doll collector Grace Belleson. Through this community, she found even more ways to showcase her collection and bring visibility to Black dolls, ensuring they were acknowledged and celebrated.
Hynes was known for her ability to foster dialogue in any setting. Her home was a gathering place for local activists, foreign exchange students, and the Montessori youth she taught alongside her own children. One of the daughters, Beth, recalled hosting students from Mexico, Japan, Mali, and the Philippines, noting that her mother’s diverse cultural relationships deeply influenced her collection.
In 1967, at a time when white flight was common in North Minneapolis, the Hynes family joined the neighborhood. Beth remembered the conversation that led to their decision. An African American preacher and activist had been speaking at their church about civil rights when Jeanne asked, “What’s the best thing we [white people] can do?”
His response: “Move back into the city.” And so [they did, living in the Near Northside for a vital 6 years, and later (after a spell in Shakopee) settling in St. Paul, in the Selby-Dale neighborhood.]
For Hynes, dolls weren’t just collectibles; they were alive with meaning, and she wanted people to engage with them — touch them, admire their details, and understand their significance. She often explained how the materials, features, and craftsmanship of each doll told a story about the era in which it was made.
Whether it was a cloth doll sewn with care during the Great Depression or a finely sculpted figure representing a historical moment, each piece had something to say.
“She’d talk to me about teaching through dolls — how they carry the stories of individuals, families, and whole communities, linking across generations,” said Nancy Hynes. “She loved theatre and puppetry; for her, the dolls were alive, ready to start talking, tell a story or, in the hands of children, put on a play. And so encourage them to learn about themselves, their history, and the history of others, while having fun.”
Hynes sought every opportunity to share her collection with the public, bringing it to schools, community events, and cultural gatherings. She believed dolls could be a bridge to understanding history in a deeply personal way, transforming education into something interactive, engaging and meaningful.
“I think the dolls were a tangible way for her to express her appreciation for the global community,” Beth said, reflecting on her mother’s fascination.
When Jeanne Hynes passed away in 2017, she left behind an extensive doll collection, but in her final years, dementia eroded her ability to keep detailed records. With few notes or instructions, her daughters were left to determine the best way to honor her legacy.
Before her decline, Jeanne had shared with her daughter Ruth one clear request: Her Black doll collection — nearly half of her total collection — should remain intact and not be split up or sold. “She wanted them to go somewhere that people could see them,’” the family recalls.
For years, Jeanne’s daughters searched for the right place to house her cherished collection, hoping to find an institution that would display and curate the dolls in a way that aligned with their mother’s vision — to spark dialogue, educate, and inspire. That answer came to Beth Hynes in an almost serendipitous way.
While listening to Minnesota Spokesman-Recorder CEO Tracey Williams-Dillard speak on MPR with host Angela Davis, celebrating the newspaper’s 90th anniversary, Beth had a realization. There was no better place for the dolls than the MSR, an institution deeply rooted in Black history and storytelling.
The synchronicity didn’t end there. In a meaningful alignment of legacies, Williams-Dillard’s own mother had also been an African American doll collector, reinforcing the deep connection between this donation and MSR’s mission to preserve and amplify Black narratives.
With this donation, Jeanne Hynes’ vision lives on. Her daughters hope that MSR will curate and showcase the collection in a way that continues these much-needed conversations for generations to come — just as she intended. Through her dolls, Jeanne’s lifelong dedication to education, creativity and representation will continue to educate, inspire, and bring people together.
Kiara Williams welcomes reader responses to kwilliams@spokesman-recorder.com.