We recently connected with Vandor Hill and have shared our conversation below.

Vandor, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Can you recount a story of an unexpected problem you’ve faced along the way?

One of the most unexpected challenges I faced was realizing that opening a brick-and-mortar wasn’t the finish line—it actually made everything more fragile.
When I started Whack Donuts out of my apartment, I had full control. Once I opened a physical space, I ran into issues I couldn’t plan for—construction outside the shop, blocked visibility, and uncertainty around timelines and leases. I remember standing inside the shop one morning with everything ready to go, donuts made, doors open, and barely anyone walking by. It was frustrating and honestly discouraging. I had done everything right, yet the situation was completely out of my hands.
That moment hit deeper because Whack Donuts was born during a period of grief in my life. The business wasn’t just income—it was survival and healing. So when outside factors threatened it, it felt personal.
Instead of waiting for conditions to improve, I shifted my approach. I leaned into community—hosting free events, pop-ups, and dance battles—and became more transparent about what was happening. I focused less on foot traffic and more on relationships.
That experience taught me that resilience isn’t just about working harder. It’s about adapting without losing your purpose. Those challenges didn’t break the business—they clarified it.

Vandor, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

My name is Vandor Hill, and I’m the founder of Whack Donuts, a vegan, baked donut company based in San Francisco. I’m also a lifelong breakdancer and community organizer, and those two worlds—movement and food—are deeply connected in how I approach my work.
Whack Donuts began during a period of intense personal loss between 2017 and 2020, when I lost several close family members and mentors. Baking started as a way to stay grounded and process grief. During the pandemic, I began making donuts out of my apartment, experimenting with flavors, techniques, and recipes, and sharing them with friends and neighbors. What started as survival slowly grew into a business.
My background in breakdancing shaped the brand from the start. “Whack” comes from dance culture—it represents originality, style, and doing things your own way. That philosophy carries into the product. Whack Donuts are vegan, baked—not fried—and thoughtfully crafted with balance and intention. The goal is to create donuts that feel elevated without losing their sense of fun or accessibility.
Beyond the product, Whack Donuts exists as a community-focused space. I’ve organized free outdoor dance events, pop-ups, and gatherings because I believe small businesses can also be platforms for creativity and connection. Having worked in the nonprofit sector and organized events since 2013, community engagement has always been central to how I operate.
What sets Whack Donuts apart is how personal it is. I’m the owner, baker, graphic designer, and content creator. Every detail comes from lived experience rather than trends. While the brand has been featured by local media and partnered with major companies, what I’m most proud of is building something honest—something that makes people feel welcomed, seen, and inspired.
At its core, Whack Donuts isn’t just about donuts. It’s about resilience, creativity, and community. I want people to know that everything I build comes from intention, care, and a belief that food—and art—can be tools for healing and connection.

Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?

After opening my brick-and-mortar, construction went up around the building almost immediately. Visibility dropped, foot traffic disappeared, and there were days I’d open the shop fully stocked and barely see anyone come through. It was discouraging, especially because Whack Donuts was built during a period of grief and represented stability for me.
Instead of waiting for things to improve, I adapted. I leaned into community—hosting free events, pop-ups, and dance battles—and focused on relationships rather than foot traffic. That experience taught me that resilience isn’t about pushing harder, but about adjusting without losing your purpose.

What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?

One lesson I had to unlearn was the idea that doing everything right guarantees stability. Early on, I believed that if I worked hard, followed the rules, and stayed disciplined, things would naturally work out. That mindset came from years of grinding in dance, nonprofit work, and eventually building Whack Donuts from my apartment.
When I opened my brick-and-mortar, I quickly learned that effort doesn’t protect you from circumstances outside your control—construction, visibility issues, lease uncertainty. I was doing everything “correct,” yet the business was still vulnerable. That was a hard reality check.
Unlearning that belief forced me to shift from perfection to adaptability. Instead of asking, “What did I do wrong?” I started asking, “What can I respond to right now?” That change helped me survive—and it reshaped how I build, lead, and move forward.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: Source: https://www.instagram.com/whackdonuts?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

Image Credits

Jeff Hunt ( shop photo)
Maurice Meijs (profile photo)