Fire-and-brimstone preachers, DoorDash Crumbl Cookies giveaways and student organizations constantly crowd Free Speech Alley, each vying for the attention of students passing by. This week, the plaza in front of the Student Union has attracted even more foot traffic with the arrival of internet sensation Cindy Smock, known as Sister Cindy.
Part of The Campus Ministry USA, Smock is an Evangelical preacher who gained notoriety on social media for delivering provocative sermons on college campuses. With over 39,000 Instagram followers, 415,000 TikTok followers and nearly 10 million likes on TikTok, Smock is truly an online celebrity.
Though she posts many of her sermons on social media, she doesn’t see a lot of disposable income from content monetization.
“I’m supported like a missionary,” Smock said. “Christians that believe in what I’m doing, or churches give me support to pay for my expenses. I’ve made a little bit of money on Cameo, but not a lot.”
Since the early ‘80s, Smock has included LSU in her preaching tours. Having seen the campus through the years, she believes current students are more connected to their faith than those in the past.

“I’ve been here for a lot of decades,” Smock said. “I would say Gen Z is definitely my favorite generation; they’re a chosen generation. Many of them are coming to God. There’s already a revival going on at LSU.”
This year, she had a three-day preaching residency from Monday through Wednesday at LSU, the longest duration she has spent on a campus the entire semester.
Many students first learned of Smock’s visit from an Instagram post in which she announced that she would soon be on campus and shared her pet name for LSU.
“I really appreciate her using LSU’s government name: Louisiana Sluts University,” joked Xavier Deleon, 18, a freshman civil engineering major. “It was really formal. I’m glad she brought that to light, because it’s really bad over here.”
Students have been heavily anticipating Smock’s visit to LSU. Some have taken to Yik Yak, an anonymous social media app for college students, or Instagram to express their excitement, while others have simply relied on word of mouth to share details.
“sister cindy bouta fix everything,” one Yik Yak user posted on Sunday.
As the bell tower rang out at noon on Monday, chatter throughout Free Speech Alley picked up as many students began getting antsy for Smock to show face. Luckily, they didn’t have to wait long.
At 12:04 p.m., Smock strolled from Memorial Tower to Free Speech Alley, attracting the attention of many fans, one of whom even ran to take a selfie with the famed preacher.
“Please, Sister, I need to be saved,” one student called out as Smock began setting up for her four-hour sermon.
Starting off, Smock told her famous margarita anecdote, warning men to not “take an LSU girl out for Mexican” food because each margarita you buy her will bring a new level of sexual promiscuity.
LSU graduates and semi-retired physicist couple Woody and Corinne Courtney joined Smock as parody musicians over the three-day visit, often requesting that the crowd directly interact with call-and-response commands.
Though the crowd was at first sparse, with only around 30 attendees upon her arrival, it only grew as Smock began speaking, many drawn to join during their mid-day lunch breaks from school and work.
Students who left in the middle of her sermon to go to class were prompted by Smock to email their professors to be excused as they joined the Ho No Mo’ Revolution, as she has deemed the mass Christian movement that she leads.

“Be witness to the raw, uncut Sister Cindy slut-shaming show,” Smock said, urging the crowd to hoot and holler in excitement.
Monday was marked by a lesson in “ho-ology 101,” where students learned what exactly it means to be a ho.
Smock is known for rewarding enthusiasm, correct answers and confessions with signed pins. While explaining the “seven levels of ho-ness,” Smock asked students who resonated with the various levels to share their experiences with the crowd.
The first level, referred to as “beau’s ho,” describes a woman who is tempted to have premarital sex with a committed partner. To this, sophomore psychology student Caitlyn Wynn, 19, decided to step forward and confess.
“I admitted to having a boyfriend, but we’re waiting for marriage,” Wynn said.
Smock, with a satisfied smile on her face, signed a pin for Wynn, inspiring the audience to cheer on the student’s sexual restraint from her boyfriend.
Sitting back down from the interaction, Wynn proudly adorned the pin on her sweatshirt, having withheld a certain personal detail in order to win the souvenir.
“I’m a lesbian,” Wynn said.
The next level is described as an “oopsie ho,” where someone plans to remain a virgin but accidentally has sexual intercourse. Level three is a “hookup ho,” a category which Smock believes many LSU students fit into.
“You can lead a ho to water, but you can’t make her drink,” she said. “If a ho has a ho heart, she’s going to be a ho because her heart is all about ho-ing. You can talk to her till you’re blue in the face, but she’s still a ho, ho, ho.”
The Courtneys then performed their rewritten rendition of Queen’s “Fat Bottomed Girls,” singing, “Are you gonna send him nudes tonight? That creepy guy you kinda like. Are you gonna do the dirty deed? Bare bottomed girls, you make the creepy guys come out. Creepy guys, you need Jesus.”
Strippers and prostitutes are called “mega hos,” while those who have OnlyFans accounts are in a tier above, called “giga-hos.”
Singing a tune suited to these two levels, the Courtneys covered Joan Jett and the Blackhearts’ “I Hate Myself for Loving You,” with the hook rewritten as “I hate myself for loving porn.”

Rounding out the levels of ho-ness is the “establishment ho,” who is usually older and “a bit dried up,” according to Smock. Such people wear flashy jewelry, or “ho chains,” to attract men.
Though Monday centered around Smock’s views on what makes a ho, Tuesday’s sermon focused on her personal experience as a “low, low ho” during her college years.
“Gen X was ho-ing more than Gen Z,” Smock said to the crowd.
During her college years, Smock attended the University of Florida. Her central anecdote followed her meet cute with her late husband, Jed Smock. At the time, Smock was a “vampire ho” who attempted to seduce the young preacher visiting her campus from Indiana.
While her plan for seduction didn’t work, she decided to preach, moved by Jed’s passion for his faith. From then on, she was a “ho no mo.”
At this point, Smock turned to the surrounding students, asking for a show of hands for who owned a Bible, which she referred to as the “Ho No Mo’ book.” One viewer excitedly raised her hand, explaining that she sometimes cries reading it. Just moments later, she had a brand new pin accessorizing her outfit.
Wednesday’s sermon was a discussion about what life looks like as a “ho no mo’” and included an open Q&A where students could ask Smock questions about Christianity. She opened the session asking to speak with virgins, during which she asked if they have not had sex because they “don’t want any or can’t get any.”
For several hours across the span of three days, students filtered in and out of the plaza, some claiming a front row seat to Smock’s preaching while others simply stopped by between classes to watch, take videos or cheer her on.
At LSU, Smock’s words transcended sermons — they became a spectacle. Throughout campus, students sported their Ho No Mo’ pins, posted their selfies with Sister Cindy and debated the ethics of ho-ing.
“Hell is hot, don’t be a thot,” Smock said.

