< About Us
Our Story
The High Backs started with a question from a child on a litter pick in Burnhill, walking past a pair of locked gates on Penman Avenue.
How come we cannae go up there and play?
At first the question seemed simple to answer - you can. Actually getting there took two years, five massive skips, and a community that showed up when it mattered...
It all started during the Covid pandemic. The Family Hub where local kids spent time together had shut its doors. Overnight they had to stop seeing their pals. Lizzy McDonald was worried about what that would do to them. But she decided not to sit back and take any chances.
While everywhere it seemed like doors were closing, Lizzy's answer was to open up something new. She and a volunteer called Nicole started a Wednesday litter-picking group - small clusters, fresh air, kids being kids again together. There was not a lot of options at the time - but it was something .
And then one of the kids stopped at a gate and asked why they couldn't go into the space to play.
The space behind the gate had always been there. Everyone in Burnhill knew about it pretty much and it had a name - the High Backs. It was the kind of place you knew about but didn't really think about when you walked past, because that's just the way these things are.
It took six months just to get permission to go in. In the end they had to grind the lock off the gate.
They found a jungle with years of debris in it. The ground had changed shape under everything that had built up on it and it was not safe. But Lizzy had already told the kids they could go up there and play and she wasn't going back on that.
The call went out - would you come and help?
And boy, did they - local mums, dads, aunties, grans all turned up. They showed up because they wanted something better for their children than what was there. They welded the fences back together. They pulled out the debris by hand. And then the council sent skips - it was probably four or five massive sixteen-yard skips. The community had done the hard graft and the council came through with the rest.
It took over two years from the kid's question at the gate to the day the space was cleared. There were plenty of people along the way who said it wouldn't work. But Lizzy thought about the kids waiting to play - so every time another door closed, she kept on chapping.
The first community event at the High Backs was an open invitation to the whole of the Burnhill . We put up a big board and asked one question: what would you love to have here?
Every single thing you see here today - we drew it on that board together, and then we built it. The community allotment, the football goals, the gazebos where parents could sit and watch their kids play. All ideas from the community for the community.
And through all of it, the kids were at the centre. They were the ones who had asked the question at the gate. They made hand-drawn leaflets asking people not to fly-tip in the High Backs. And once the space was safe enough, they came in with their wee wellies and their litter bags to finish the job themselves - so proud of what they were part of that, as Lizzy puts it, they looked like they'd won a watch. Pure delight.
The kids were the ones who drove this forward. Everything started with them.
Our young people have grown into something remarkable. Young people who once felt too nervous to speak up are now standing in front of the chief executive of the council. They've been invited to the Scottish Parliament. They've presented to MPs. When the council said no to recycling bins at the High Backs, our young people went directly to waste management and made their case - and they got their yes. They always do.
Because Lizzy always believed they would.
One of the kids from that original litter-picking group now works here.
That is what the High Backs has always been about.
The kids. Their future. The community they're going to inherit, and what it might become if someone believes in them long enough. We’re now a grassroots community garden, a local charity, a community centre, and we keep on growing.
The story isn't finished. It never will be.